Fallen for You
by Sayo124
Summary: AU.KyoYuya.Full summary inside. “Welcome to college, where everything you say can and will be used as an innuendo.” Yuya Shiina, though she has to share an apartment with her childhood friend Kyoshiro Mibu, is finally out of the nest and starting college.
1. Moving and Settling In

_**Author's Notes: **New fic; new fic…! -cough- Yes, I know this is merely going to clog up updates on ALL_ _my fics, but…I reeeaaally wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy it! I had fun writing it!_

_**Disclaimer: **Of course I own Samurai Deeper Ky— -sees a nearby police man raise eyebrow- Oh, um…who are you people? Where am I? Why would I own Samurai Deeper Kyo?? -anxiously glances at police man who has looked away- Phew…_

_**Summary:** AU KyoYuya "Welcome to college, where everything you say can and will be used as an innuendo." Yuya Shiina though she has to share an apartment with Kyoshiro Mibu is finally out of the nest and starting college. But the two can get a little irrational… Making a bet to see who's better looking was just the beginning of their troubles. Especially when they fall in love. Maybe KyoshiroSakuya_

_**Warning:** College fic, which mean there can easily be hyper moments, mood swings, raging hormones, and, of course, Kyoshiro's perverted thoughts. "Welcome to college, where everything you say can and will be used as an innuendo" seems to sum it all up. Do not take that warning lightly…_

_**Title: **Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 1: **Moving and Settling In_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Yuya-san, I didn't expect you here!"

Yuya Shiina's eyes widened as the voice rang through her ears. Her brain was sending strong signals to her that she knew the speaker. It didn't take a genius, though, to match up the face in her head and the voice.

"Kyoshiro!" she exclaimed, a happy grin adorning her face as she whirled to see one of her closest friends standing in the doorway. "Wow, I should be telling _you _that. What are you doing here?"

"I guess the same thing you are," Kyoshiro Mibu replied, warmth twined in with his voice as he shrugged in the most casual, easy-going way, "to learn."

Yuya rolled her eyes. "No freak," she replied in a snippy tone, a little peeved the way his answer told her nothing. "Stop playing that card with me. You know I have no patience for stuff like that."

Kyoshiro grinned at her but made no move to reply.

Growling in frustration at Kyoshiro's old attempt at a joke, Yuya allowed her shoulder bag to slip off her forearm, her fingers releasing her roll-along suitcase. She flipped her loose ponytail over her shoulder before pinning Kyoshiro with a glare. "Kyoshiro," she started, venom in her voice. "I swear that if you don't tell me why you've _really_ come here, I'm going to get out my gun and I'm going to shoot you," Yuya finished, her eyes flicking over to her shoulder bag and scanning the large, front zip-up pocket, like she could see through it to where she was most likely keeping her aforementioned weapon.

"Yuya, _please_ tell me that you didn't bring that gun," Kyoshiro nearly groaned, edging away slightly at the thought at how dangerous his female companion could be with her gun—or _any_ sharp, long, pointy, hard, heavy, or dangerous item—in her hands. He knew well enough to stay away when Yuya was mad and had something that could be used as a weapon in her hands or in a twenty-foot radius.

An indignant flare glinted in her eyes. "My baby has nothing to do with this!" Yuya retorted. "There was no reason whatsoever to bring my gun into this subject!"

Kyoshiro stared at Yuya for a few seconds before giving her a bright smile. "Yuya, _you _brought the gun into the topic of our conversation."

The words had no sooner left his mouth than Yuya had pulled out a sharpened pencil from her shoulder bag and pointed it at him, aiming for his throat. She didn't make a sound as she glared at him.

"You make a very good point, Yuya, even if it is in your demented way." Kyoshiro nervously started to back slowly away, hands raised in a gesture of helplessness.

"Now just tell me why you chose _this_ place of all the academies you could have gotten into," Yuya ordered him.

Kyoshiro let his arms relax, his hands returning to his side. He noticed that the pencil was no longer in her grasp, and he came close to giving a sigh of relief. Blue eyes met emerald slowly. The moment they locked, however, Kyoshiro quickly averted his gaze.

"Did my _father _send you?" The question was in an incredulous tone. "Did he force you to come here?" she demanded, anger darkening her brow. Did her father actually have enough guts to force Kyoshiro to attend the same college as herself? Did he even _think_ about how selfish that was? Kyoshiro was incredibly bright, especially at medicine. Choosing where he went to school could limit his future. As well as that, it showed just how much faith he had in her: none.

Kyoshiro sighed before turning back to Yuya, his blue eyes soft. "I wanted to come here to begin with," he started. "When your father heard that I planned to attend the same school as you, he asked me watch out for you. As well as that, he said that the best way to help you through school would be for me to share your apartment. Your father said it was the best way to help protect you from any perverts or the like since you chose to attend a co-ed college and live in an off-campus apartment that you had to share with someone where you were at a high risk of living with a guy. Now that I'm the one sharing your living space, there's no a smaller chance of you getting hurt and having contact with guys."

Yuya rolled her eyes at her father's idiocy. If she didn't get experience around guys now, when was she supposed to? If she never did, how did he expect her to face the real world? No matter how hard he tried, about half the population was male and, therefore, an unavoidable thing in the world, and he couldn't keep her away from them forever. Her college years was supposed to make up for lost time from her time at high school, seeing as how anytime Yuya even _mentioned_ the other gender—save Kyoshiro—he crucified her, telling her she was 'too young' for boys. Trying to work on groups projects was a mess, seeing how the group always consisted of at least one guy…

"Let me guess, you're repeating my father's words?" she asked, trying to keep her temper at bay. Her father was merely trying to protect her, she tried to reason with herself.

Kyoshiro smiled amiably as he answered, "Word-for-word."

Yuya never had been good at listening to her own advice. Resisting the urge to snort, her eyes narrowed in anger not at Kyoshiro, but her father. Her voice was eerily calm as she continued, "And what's your opinion on this particular matter?"

Kyoshiro shrugged. "I couldn't care less what you do. You're my best friend and I trust you. I don't think you'd do anything rash. I'm doing this to protect you and to uphold the promise I made with your father."

Yuya scrutinized him for a second as something donned on her. "He made you promise to stay in my dorm and come to my college, didn't he?"

Kyoshiro hesitated for a second, thinking of the right way to word his answer to that. "He didn't… _make_ me," he finally said. "He's just very… _persuasive_."

Yuya stiffened. "Did he threaten you?"

Kyoshiro smiled, though it looked like he was trying to oppress a grimace. "He didn't _threaten _me, he merely_ warned_ me what he would do to me should anything befall you. He also told me what he would do to 'the bastard that hurts you.' Though I do have to admit, I think I would inflict more harm upon them than he would if I got my hands on them…"

Yuya gave him a playful shove and rolled her eyes. "Geez, you're like an over-protective, annoying brother."

But she inwardly smiled, knowing what he said was true. Kyoshiro was not one that could be labeled as weak. He had taken a few martial arts, such as karate and tai kwon do, and excelled at them. His reflexes were sharp, too. As well as that, his father had taught him how to fight with a sword—though why was totally beyond Yuya seeing as how he was most likely never going to use it in his life—and he was quite good. Scratch that, he was so good that if he lived in the age of the samurai, he would have been one of the best in Japan.

"You forgot to add good-looking," Kyoshiro informed her seriously.

"_Puh_-leez; like you go into _that_ category," Yuya retorted. "You should humbly accept what you're given. What? Isn't over-protective and annoying good enough for you?"

Kyoshiro scoffed. "People would willingly classify me as good-looking!" he defended.

Yuya gave him a look that clearly read_ are you out of your mind?_

Kyoshiro bristled. "It's true! I'd be categorized a good-looking way before you, at least!"

Green eyes flickered playfully. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

Kyoshiro opened his mouth to say something but promptly close it. And blinked. And blinked again. An idea popped into his head and he couldn't help but grin maniacally as he put it into words. "What if I said it was? Would you be inclined to stand up to me?"

Yuya gave him a look. "What are you talking about?"

"Yuya Shiina, are you ready to challenge me?"

She didn't even hesitate. She would _never_ back down from a challenge of any sort. "Of course," came her steady reply as her eyes set determinedly on his.

Kyoshiro grinned like a little boy who had stumbled upon an abandoned well stuffed with candy. "You're digging your own grave," he informed her before continuing. "You say I wouldn't be categorized as good looking, ne?" He waited for a reply. Her glare that was hard enough to wilt flowers was answer enough for him to continue, "What if I told you that I could prove you wrong?"

Yuya frowned. "I'd have to inquire as to how you planned to do that, of course," she answered simply.

Kyoshiro's grin widened. "Of course you would. And I, being the kind gentleman that I am, would be inclined to tell you. But before I do, I'm going to ask again. Are you up to my challenge?"

Yuya didn't even hesitate as a smile spread across her face and she smoothly replied, "Of course."

Kyoshiro returned the smile, an _Oh, I'm going to enjoy this_ look twined in with it. "Then here it is: you say I wouldn't be classified as good looking. However, I, as well as a few girls I know, would beg to differ. So, here's the deal: we're going to see just which one be considered better looking."

Yuya's right eye brow rose in a golden arch, her expression clearly asking where he was going with this.

"There's going to be a small dance this Friday," Kyoshiro continued. "To go, you have to have a date." He paused, allowing that to sink in. Yuya looked at him, eyes narrowing as she realized where he was going. "So, we're going to see who can get the most phone numbers by then. From those we have to pick our poison as to who we're going to the party with. Sound fair?"

Emerald eyes slitted in thought, as Yuya looked for any loop holes in the challenge. There didn't seem to be any way for Kyoshiro to cheat—not that he _would_, of course, she was just_ so_ sure. Finally, she found one. "We also have to have their name and dorm number or address," she informed him.

Kyoshiro gave her a look. "Why?"

Yuya glared at him. "So you don't make up numbers and give yourself a better chance of winning, stupid!" she snapped defensively.

He shrugged. "Fine with me, then; it's not like I was planning on doing that. Just remember that you were the one who made that rule when you lose, so don't be sore about it."

Yuya had the urge to snarl at him but was able to resist it. "I suppose we should unpack now," she suggested tightly.

Kyoshiro sighed. "I'll take this bedroom to the left. You get the right."

"Fine with me," she replied, a little more relaxed and friendly now than she was just a few seconds before. "That's the room I wanted to begin with."

He paused for a second, debating on whether or not to say something else. After a few seconds, he said, "I just have one thing to say to you that my cousin told me before I left yesterday: Welcome to college, where everything you say can and will be used as an innuendo."

Kyoshiro disappeared into his room.

Yuya stood for a few seconds, blinking, wondering if his warning was sincere or not. After a few minutes, she decided to shrug it off. It didn't matter whether Kyoshiro meant that or not—he was a pervert, she wasn't going to listen to his advice. She picked up her shoulder bag and grabbed onto her roll-along suitcase before heading into her room and placed all her luggage on her bed.

Her nose wrinkled at the thought of wasting the daytime of her first day in her—or rather her and Kyoshiro's—apartment unpacking when she could wait to do that during the night before bed and explore the area around where she was going to live for the next few years. Besides, her father had already had most of her things placed in the room ahead of time—she just needed to unpack her clothes.

Yuya turned and slipped out of her new room and went to the front door. She slipped on her shoes and called, "Kyoshiro, I'm headin' out for a bit. I'll be back in time to make you dinner," over her shoulder.

"Okay, Yuya; I'll be asleep most likely," he mumbled with a yawn. She heard a creaking of the bed as he most likely collapsed onto it.

"Bye," she murmured softly and turned the knob, opening the door. With a smile of excitement adorning her face, Yuya left.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Exiting the main entrance of the apartment complex, Yuya breathed in the warm air. Her apartment was only about a mile and a half away from the college campground. She could very easily walk that or maybe even ride her bike over. If she was lucky, her father would give her her car back…

_Like he'd do that!_ Yuya mentally scorned.

Her father had told her that it was too dangerous for her to drive when there were hundreds of deaths a day from automobile accidents—and he worded it just like that, too.

Shaking her head, the blonde brought herself back to present day. Jinpu Ryu Academy was a top-notch college in the area, but definitely not one of the best nation-wide. Just what Yuya wanted; good, but not the absolute best. She had quickly tired of having the best after being raised around her father.

Smiling in content, Yuya decided to head over towards her new school for some exploration.

Flipping some stray locks over her shoulder, Yuya tightened her loose ponytail before continuing on.

_After this, I'll have to see if I can meet any of the other people staying in the apartments around me_, she mused as she trekked. _I wonder if Kyoshiro will have as many friends as he did in High School…_

She was so intrigued in her thoughts that she didn't notice the figure coming towards her. So, she ended up walking right into the person—Yuya landing on her butt, the figure almost unmoved, but despite that fact, quite peeved.

"Hey!" a cold voice snarled. "Watch where you're going!"

Yuya bristled. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry; you were just so damn broad it was impossible to _not_ collide with you," she shot back, finally looking up to meet the stranger's gaze. She could tell it was a guy from the voice, but what she saw made her blink in surprise.

_Kyoshiro…?_ she wondered. The person, indeed, resembled Kyoshiro. He had the same obsidian hair as Kyoshiro. He even shared the same facial features that Kyoshiro had. Yuya was almost about to ask whether or not he was Kyoshiro in disguise—she wouldn't put it past the prank-pulling playboy—when she finally saw the piercing crimson.

Her mouth, which had been open, ready to inquire him, snapped shut. His eyes were definitely different than Kyoshiro's. Her friend had blue eye—baby blue eyes. This guy had crimson ones. Like blood.

That thought made Yuya mentally shudder. He was not Kyoshiro. His eyes bore into hers and Yuya couldn't help but feel a little exposed. It was almost like his eyes were seeing straight into her mind; straight through her.

"Are you calling me fat?"

His question was unexpected on her part. She broke out of her thoughts and realized he was—quite impatiently—waiting for an answer. She would have continued to gape, but his eyes seemed to taunt her, silently mocking her. Her temper flared at the thought.

"Very! And ugly, too!" she retorted. That seemed to amuse him. _Damn him!_ she swore to herself. She was _not_ a stand-up comedian for him to laugh at.

He, apparently, thought otherwise. "Shouldn't I be telling you that?" he drawled, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Shut up! I am _not_ ugly!" A thought filtered into her mind then. _"I'd be categorized a good-looking way before you, at least!"_ That's what Kyoshiro had told her earlier. Growling, Yuya continued, "I would be classified as good-looking _any_ day. It's _you_, however, that seems to have a problem in that particular category."

He smirked. "You dare say that to me?"

"Are you threatening me?" Yuya demanded, anger spreading like fire throughout her.

"Never," he told her, feigning indignation.

Yuya growled. "You're wasting my time!" she snapped, and with that, starting to brush past him.

To say she was surprised when something caught her wrist and dragged her back would be an understatement.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, half-heartedly attempting to pull her wrist out of his hand.

She turned to face him only to see a dark shadow over his face, brows furrowed, scowl in place.

"What?" she asked again, a little unnerved at his appearance.

"No one walks away from me," he told her in a cold tone, his lips suddenly pressed against her ear. He tightened his grip on her wrist as he pulled her closer, up to his chest. Yuya had to force herself to suppress a shudder when she practically felt the muscles beneath his black shirt. "Remember that, little girl," he went on. And then he let her go. And he was the one that brushed past her.

It took a few seconds for her to comprehend what had happened; she whirled around, completely ready to give that _guy_ a piece of her mind. She parted her mouth, insult at the ready, fists clenched, when her brows furrowed. She closed her mouth and relaxed.

The guy was gone…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Falling back to lean against her door, Yuya rubbed her temples. Her little tour of her school had been quite unsuccessful. After she had perused the college grounds, she found herself back at the main entrance of Jinpu Ryu Academy. It was then that she realized she didn't remember a thing that she had just seen. Giving up, she decided to return home and repeat this whole process tomorrow, during any and all free periods between her classes.

Sighing, Yuya brought herself back to the present with a scowl. Her lessons—the first term—began tomorrow. _Couldn't they've given us more time to settle in? _she whined to herself before promptly remember that it was her father who had not allowed her to move into her apartment until today…

"Yuya? That you?" Kyoshiro's slurred-with-sleep voice floated to her from in his room.

"No, I'm a burglar here to rob you of all your valuables." Seriously, why was Kyoshiro so stupid? Who else had a key to the apartment—?

Yuya abruptly froze as she realized that the owner of the apartment complex said he was going to give each tenant—being Kyoshiro and herself—three sets of keys when she had first met him. She had kept all three of hers for herself—since she would probably lose one somewhere in the near future—but she had no idea where Kyoshiro's were…

_He could've given a set to some weird, bum-of-a-friend of his._ At that thought, Yuya's brow furrowed.

Hands clenched into fists, scowl in place, and a look of complete irritation etched in her features, Yuya stormed over to Kyoshiro's room. She slammed the door open and glared inside through the doorway.

Kyoshiro, who had been dozing, jerked awake and yelped at the loud sound of his door hitting the wall. Bolting upright, he cast her a confused look. "Is my nap over?" he asked her in a half serious, half not-quite-awake voice.

"Were you given three keys to the apartment from the owner of the apartment complex?" Yuya decided beating around the bush would get her nowhere with him. Bluntness was the only thing to be used around Kyoshiro Mibu.

"Yeah, why?"

"What did you do with them?" Her tone clearly told him that if he lied and she found out, he was going to receive a slow and torturous death by her hands.

"I—I still have them," Kyoshiro stammered, a little weirded out by the look of death in Yuya's glare.

"All three of them?"

"Yeah."

Yuya's eyes turned stony. "Then where are they?"

Kyoshiro nodded towards his dresser.

Yuya cast him one last dark look before stomping over to his afore mentioned furniture. After a few seconds of searching, Yuya made a sound of disgust. "Where are they? I can't find a _thing_ through all this crap!" To emphasize her point, she picked out a playboy—she made sure to cover up the cover with her hands so she wouldn't see any inappropriate pictures and added another thing on her to-do list: burn any and all playboy magazines he had—and tossed it across the room, the fluttering pages smacking into his face.

Kyoshiro froze a moment before slowly peeling the magazine away to get a better look at one of the pages. "_Woo_-boy"—he gave a wolf whistle—"what a beauty… too bad she wasn't positioned about ten more degrees this way…"

"Oh, _shut up_, Kyoshiro!" Yuya ordered him. "Find your stupid keys so I can—_put that thing away!_"

Kyoshiro sent her a look, not sure of she was talking about the playboy or the giant poster that he was looking at—the one he had gotten free after subscribing for playboy for ten years. When he continued to give her a blank stare, Yuya cursed and stormed over to him, ripped both of the 'appropriate' things from his grasp, and tossed them in the trash.

"Do you think you could stay on task and get your stupid keys?" she snapped at Kyoshiro when he gave her a pathetic look of both horror and sadness.

"Why'd ya do that?" he asked her, his tone depressed. He made his way over to the trash can and picked out his prized possessions. Upon scrutinizing them, he brightened. "Salvageable," he explained at Yuya's look of curiosity.

Giving a snort of disgust, Yuya walked over to stand next to him and put his 'goodies' back in the trash can—making sure they were no longer 'salvageable' in the process.

Smiling bit triumphantly, Yuya turned, ready to continue her search for the keys that she had to make sure weren't in the hands of some murderer-rapist-criminal-bum-cross dresser guy.

She froze when her eyes landed on a picture that was tacked onto the wall with a thumbtack.

"_Kyoshiro!_" she roared, "what the _hell _is _that_ going in your _room_?!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Ahhh," Yuya Shiina sighed, dusting off her hands. "Much better, wouldn't you agree?" She gave a bubbly smile to Kyoshiro.

Kyoshiro merely whimpered and hugged the shredded pieces of his favorite poster—this time, it was the one the playboy company gave him after fifteen years of loyal patronage—but made no move to reply.

"Aw, come off it. If you hadn't been such a perv, I wouldn't have to do this."

"You violated my room," Kyoshiro told her weakly.

Yuya pinned him with a look. "I had to make sure you didn't have anything else hidden in here after I saw that _thing_ hanging on your wall."

Kyoshiro grinned at the memory of what had set Yuya off. "I think you looked rather nice, actually," he informed her.

Yuya growled. "I have no idea how you got a hold of that photo, but if I find out you have another at your house, I'm going to clean out your room there, too."

Kyoshiro pouted.

"Stop that, you look like a little kid," Yuya snapped, her temper thinning. Kyoshiro knew she wouldn't be able to fend herself after a few seconds of seeing his puppy dog, baby blue eyes.

Just as soon as it came, the pout was gone. "Aw, Yuya, you're so mean."

Yuya grumbled to herself about stupid lechers and child-like college students. "I'm going to unpack my room now," she told him as she brushed pass him to leave for her room.

Kyoshiro heard something crash right outside his room—probably Yuya tripping over something in her frustration—and waited a second for her stomping footfalls to enter her room and her door to slam shut.

When he was sure he heard she was well into unpacking, a huge grin spread across his face. He reached under his bed and pulled out a large trunk. He flipped the locks open and pulled out a thin layer of boxers and briefs before grinning at what was beneath his underwear hiding place.

Though Yuya had permanently disposed of his two favorite posters and about four or five years worth of magazines, Kyoshiro couldn't stop grinning like an idiot at what was in his chest.

Several more—modern—posters and about ten years worth of playboy magazines.

Thank the gods for his quick thinking…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Oooo… I'm excited:) I finally got around to writing an SDK fic! This is my very first SDK AU fic, so please review and tell me how it is! You don't have to be gentle, either, if you don't want to… But is it good enough to continue or is it a dud? –winces– Should I delete it…?_

_Please R&R!_

_Ciao!_


	2. Project Partners

_**Author's Notes:**_ _Thanks you ever so much for actually reading this. And I got 10 reviews. A whole 10 reviews!_ Woo-hoo_! (I sound pathetic, don't I…?)_

_**Disclaimer:**__ …Awww, geez… I hate these things… Idon'… -sticks out tongue- There, I said it. Happy? _

_**Title:**_ _Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 2:**_ _"Project Partners"_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_Kyoshiro!_" Yuya screeched, her quilt suddenly thrust off of her and into the air.

Rolling off her bed and onto her feet, Yuya flung herself madly at her closet, her clothes flying off the coat hangers and onto the ground in a stream.

As the articles of clothes were flung over her head, she let off a small rant of frustration. "Too plain; to gaudy; too frizzy; too clingy; too slutty; too—wait... this isn't even _mine_! Arg!" Growling in growing anger, Yuya threw her hands in the air. "There's _nothing _here for me to wear today for the first day of colleg—oh, what's that?" Stopping her rant of frustration, she looked over at the corner to see an outfit folded neatly in a pile.

Frowning, she pulled it out to inspect it. The small bundle consisted of a knee-length dark blue jean skirt that flared out slightly and a pretty pink, short-sleeved, plain-yet-spectacular-all-at-the-same-time top.

Yuya told herself, stripping out of her silky nightgown. After a few minor tweaks, she was in her outfit and twirling in front of her mirror. Nearly squealing in giddy excitement, she brushed out her hair and tied it back in a loose ponytail.

Sighing, Yuya closed her eyes to relish the moment—the moment she had been waiting for; the moment where she would wake up—not in her father's house—and dress herself, ready to start the day independent—on her own. Her father had made so many o0f her decisions and now she was finally free of all that…

All her ecstasy came crashing down when she remembered why she had woken up in a flurry of movement. Scowling, Yuya whirled and nearly stomped into the hallway, a little miffed at having her moment cut short.

"Kyoshiro!" she called over her shoulder as she made her way into the small living room area. "Hurry and wake up, baka!"

She gathered all her text- and notebooks, shoving them into her shoulder bag. Scanning the room for any forgotten materials, she gave herself a satisfied grin.

Then frowned.

"_Kyo_shiro!" she called again, her tone laden with exasperation and a little bit of frustration. "Will you wake already?"

Scuttling into the kitchen, Yuya pulled out a frying pan and opened the refrigerator—which was stocked only because she had asked her father to stock it for her, which made her a little miffed that she hadn't done it herself—and pulled out some bread, eggs, and bacon.

Working as quickly as she could while making sure her hastiness didn't affect the quality of her cooking, she fried the eggs and bacon, toasted the bread, and poured two glasses of grape juice. Setting it on the table on two plates, she leaned back top look over her work. Seeing it passed her test, she smiled slightly.

_It's the first day I get to start the first day of school without my parents, _she thought happily, retrieving some eating utensils from a drawer. _I'm going to have a nice, calm breakfast with Kyoshi—_she cut herself off when she remembered where her friend was.

Growling, she stormed over to Kyoshiro's room and slammed the door open.

A lump under the blanket merely snored and rolled over to settle deeper into the bed.

"Kyoshiro," she growled, tone dangerously low. When he remained unmoved, she went over to stand next to his bed and glowered down at him.

"I'm going to burn your playboy," she said in an even, calm tone. _Despite the fact that I already disposed of it, _she added in her mind.

The result off those softly uttered words was quite drastic. Kyoshiro's loud snoring abruptly stopped and he bolted upright in the bed. Blinking at her, he made a horrified face, his eyes full of anything but sleepiness, and shook his head.

"Wait… what did you say?"

"Oh, did you hear me?" Yuya asked coyly.

"I—I think I heard 'burning' and 'playboy.' Those two words are never good in the same sentence, though." His eyes seemed to implore her to say that he had merely been having a nightmare and she hadn't threatened his precious porn.

"Well, I said that I'd burn your magazines if you didn't wake up."

"I'm awake," he managed to squeak.

"Yeah, but… are you nervous? Kyoshiro, you don't have any playboy here for me to burn. I got rid of it all yesterday… didn't I?"

"Of course you did!" Kyoshiro hastily assured her, nearly jumping out of his bed over to his dresser to ruffle through his clothes for something to wear.

"Look me in the eye and say that."

He didn't bother to turn around but instead continued with his task. "Yuya, I…" he drifted off as he thought of something to say to distract her. "Oh, hey, it's kinda late…"

"No freak!" she retorted. 'You wouldn't get your lazy ass out of bed!"

"Oh?"

"And I was trying to wake you up!"

"Really?"

"Yes! So I was forced to threaten you."

"Oh…"

"Funny how yelling didn't work but threatening did," she commented dryly.

His reply to that was a surprised blink as he turned around to look at her. "You were yelling?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Swallowing the last bit off her toast, Yuya was about to look and call for Kyoshiro—yet again—when he shuffled in to sit down.

"I'm not that hungry, Yuya."

His answer was a venomous glare from her.

"Oh, would you look at that? My stomach's growling…" Sitting down tentatively, wondering if Yuya would find something else to bite his head off for, he looked down at his plate. "It does look good." He sounded thoroughly shocked.

"Of course it does!"

"I didn't know your cooking was good…"

Dodging the knife Yuya had used to cut the toast, Kyoshiro decided it was time to shut up or turn on a filter of some sort.

After a few seconds of silence—tense silence on Kyoshiro's part—Yuya seemed to realize something.

"What are you wearing?" she demanded sharply, taking in his appearance.

"Um… clothes," he answered, deciding not to say anything else for fear of being pummeled.

"No you're not! Those are _rags_."

Kyoshiro blinked in surprise before looking down to take in his appearance. Baggy blue jeans—that had a few holes in them from use—black sneakers, and a black t-shirt with the logo of one of his favorite bands—the logo appearing to have been written in bright red blood and bones.

"What's wrong with it?"

He had to dodge another knife.

"Anger management, Yuya, anger management," Kyoshiro reminded her tentatively,

hoping another knife—_Where do those things come from?(1)_—wouldn't be thrown in his direction.

"What's _wrong_ with it?" Yuya echoed, ignoring his comment on her anger management. "We're not in high school anymore, Kyoshiro! You should dress more appropriately for your age!"

"Oh… is that why you decided to try to look nice?"

"_Try_!"

He almost wasn't able to dodge the handful of knives that almost seemed to appear in Yuya's hand.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Taking out her textbooks, Yuya sighed as she examined her schedule.

She and Kyoshiro had—quite surprisingly—a few of the same classes. They were both going to attempt—_attempt_ being a key word—to major in history.

Kyoshiro because he really enjoyed Japanese history and for the sake of his family.

Yuya because college meant getting out of the house and the only college courses she would've been able to bear taking would have to involve history since that was one of the only things she knew about and was able to memorize—unlike math.

And she was also fascinated with it. Yuya could almost picture some of the battles from the feudal ages. She could almost visualize some of the historical characters that fought in the wars.

History had been one of the things that she and Kyoshiro both liked.

"Oi, quite dilly-dallying, we're going to be late and it'll be entirely your fault."

"But, Yuya, you don't know where the classroom is, either."

Puffing out her cheeks, Yuya exhaled slowly in barely restrained frustration. "You're not supposed to remind me!"

She didn't even bother to listen to Kyoshiro's reply as she looked around for someone to help direct her.

"Hey!" she called to a guy who wasn't too far away.

"Huh?" was his oh-so-intelligent reply.

"Do you know where class I-2 is?" (2)

"I-2? You're going to I-2?" his voice was incredulous.

Yuya momentarily had to wonder if he was slow or something, or if he was just playing dumb.

"Yeah," she said slowly, her voice implying she was talking to a two-year-old.

"Wow—that's—well—just…" He shook his head, the end of his bandana fluttering, as he tried to untie his tongue.

It was then that Yuya took in his appearance. He was wearing beige, long, baggy shorts and a black t-shirt with a picture of a white tiger on it. Instead of sneakers or converse, he was wearing brown sandals. Eyelids shut, like he was blind or something, Yuya wasn't able to tell what color his eyes were, but it looked like he rarely opened them, if ever, which was a little surprising. What surprised her the most, however, was his strawberry-colored hair that was half-covered by a striped, white bandanna.

Yuya had to wonder if it was common for college people to look weird—first a red-eyes guy and now this guy with _pink_ hair.

"What I'm tryin' to say, Miss, is that I'm also headin' towards class I-2."

"Oh," was all Yuya could say in reply, still a little hung up on the hair issue.

"Since we're going to be fellow classmates, may I ask you're name?"

Deciding to think about his… hair problem later, she warmly answered, "Sure; Shiina Yuya; and yours?"

"Tokugawa Benitora. It's nice to meet you, Miss Shiina."

Yuya rolled her eyes. "_Please_. Yuya will do fine." Being called Shiina reminded her of her annoying maids who harassed her day and night with the ever-so-annoying title of _-sama_.

"Then you may call me Benitora—or 'Tora, 'cause that's my nickname."

She smiled in agreement. "If you say so, Benitora."

Benitora smiled in return. "A sweet, beautiful lady such as yourself seems to be awful helpless traveling by herself—"

Kyoshiro cleared his throat.

Benitora looked in his direction, just then realizing he was there. "Who's this?" he asked

Yuya curiously.

"Oh, _him_?" Yuya's tone was dark. "An annoying son-of-a—"

"Kyoshiro; Mibu Kyoshiro," the 'son-of-a—' interjected.

There was a pause that seemed a little awkward to Yuya—since the two guys were thoroughly scrutinizing each other—but she couldn't think of anything to break it.

It was after several long seconds that Benitora did that for her. "Nice shirt," Benitora said sincerely, smiling amiably.

"Right back at'chya," Kyoshiro replied in the same tone, returning the smile in a relaxed way.

"I sp'ose we better get to class before we're late," Benitora advised.

"Yup, let's go!" Yuya cheerily added, grabbing onto Benitora's hand and pulling him along after her to get him to move so he wouldn't stand there and have a useless chat with Kyoshiro all morning.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya almost yawned.

Her teacher was standing near the blackboard near his written-in-chalk name—which Yuya hadn't even bothered to look at or read, leading to her not even knowing his name—droning on and on about useless things—how he worked things in his class, advisories on studying for his tests, how often they had projects, how he graded things, that they should always take notes during movies, etc., etc.

There was only ten minutes left of class—_thank the gods! (1)_—and Yuya was almost ready to start counting down the seconds.

"I know I've probably bored you"—Yuya almost snorted at her teacher's

understatement—"but now I'm going to need the wholes class's attention—including those back there who are falling asleep. Don't think I haven't seen you."

A few guilty, surprised looks were exchanged between the said students.

"I know this sounds like something you _young_ people would call 'so elementary'"—he paused a second so the snorts from the barely-suppressed snickering at his attempt at mimicking slang could die down before continuing—"but I'm going to assign project partners."

There was dead silence as the whole class gave him a look that suggested he had

forgotten to put his marbles in that morning. Written across every student's face was a clear question:

"I know it sounds…well, childish, but it will improve you for the future. You're going to have to work with people you don't like in the future, or don't know. This 'project partner' thing will merely help you."

A few groans came from the teenagers.

The teacher frowned. "Don't give me that. The pairings were random, so you have a chance of being paired with a friend."

The class turned hopeful.

"Since you're all revved up to go, I'll give you the pairings now—you might want to write this down." The teacher paused a second to allow the people who wanted to write down the name of their partner grab a pen and sheet of paper.

Once he was sure everyone was ready, he started to rattle off names. Yuya had her pen at the ready, waiting tensely for her sensei to say her name. After a few other pairings, she finally heard it.

"—Yuya Shiina and Yukimura Sanada; Ryu—"

The rest of her teacher's sentence was cut off as Yuya blanked out, pen frozen above her paper.

she thought, a little horror-stricken. _The_ Yukimura Sanada? As in the _singer_ Yukimura Sanada? _That_ Yukimura Sanada?

The chances of there being two Yukimura Sanadas was slim to none.

So, if it was _the _Yukimura Sanada that she was paired up with, how come he was attending such a 'lowly' school? Wouldn't he be in one of those prestigious, preppy colleges that cost millions a year?

Was he stupid or something?

Yuya dismissed that thought with a shake of her head. Yukimura Sanada was not stupid; that much was obvious. He was, in fact, a bright guy.

So, if he was attending this college, wouldn't there be press overloading the place, wanting to know the exact same thing Yuya did? And wouldn't there be more of a ruckus over security for Yukimura's benefit?

She shook her head slowly and glanced around the room, trying to pick out any face that might resemble the superstar's.

She didn't see any, which made her frown.

The class, itself, seemed unmoved when the name Yukimura Sanada had been said, and they surely would have reacted when hearing the celebrity's name.

Maybe there _were_ two Yukimura Sanadas…

"—Kyoshiro Mibu; Kyo Mibu—"

Yuya was brought out of her musings when she heard Kyoshiro's name. Upon hearing the surname Mibu twice, confusion once again overwhelmed her.

she mentally demanded to know.

Kyoshiro had never mentioned a sibling or anything, so she was sure so the last name—Mibu—had to purely be coincidence.

Yuya added as an afterthought.

Glancing over at Kyoshiro to see if he was as thoroughly perplexed as she, she had to admit that to say she was surprised would be an understatement when she was his tense, scowling, brow-furrowed stance. He did _not _look happy.

she wondered before tuning her teacher back in.

"—bout a minute and a half left of class, so I'll just let you meet up in your pairings so that you can say that you at least know who your partner is."

With that, he walked over to his desk and sat down to work on some papers. There was about two second pause for Yuya—the rest of her classmates had already gotten up and were making their greetings to everyone—before the teacher looked up. "Oh wait, Yuya Shiina, I need to speak with you in the hallway."

Blinking in surprise, Yuya immediately stood, almost stumbling in her hastiness, and slid out of her desk.

"You better bring your books with you," the teacher said as an afterthought.

Nodding mutely, Yuya picked up her books and followed her teacher into the hallway.

When she thanked her teacher for holding the door open for her, she remembered that she didn't know his name. She desperately tried to discreetly peer into the classroom through the small glass window in the door but there was someone standing in the way.

"Um—" she began only to cut herself off.

It was then that she felt a cool chill on her thigh and realized that the teacher was trying not to stare at her leg, cheeks slightly pink. Looking down in surprise, she saw that the corner of her text book had caught on her skirt and it had ridden almost all the way up her thigh to where her underwear was…

Squeaking in embarrassment and surprise, she hastily fixed the garment and attempted to meet the eyes of her teacher.

She failed miserably.

"Shiina-san, I merely wanted to inform you, in case you didn't know already, that Yukimura Sanada will, indeed, be attending this academy." He said it like Yuya had not nearly been flashing him a second ago, and that helped to calm her down and ease her embarrassment.

"Um, sir, why is he even bothering to attend such—"

"A lowly college?" he finished for her. "I don't know. It was purely his decision, I was told."

"Oh…"

"You might have noticed that he isn't here at this moment. He'll be in tomorrow, however."

"Okay," Yuya answered slowly. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you—"

"Telling you this?" he finished for her again. "Because I know you're confused with all this. Sanada-san is also a popular celebrity, so I suppose I should warn you that it might be difficult for you to work on projects if the press were to find out that he's here."

"They don't know?" Her tone was incredulous.

He was about to answer when class ended and a stampede of desperate-to-leave students flooded out. She was forced away from the teacher and by the time the flood ended, he wasn't in sight.

She shrugged it off, deciding to see if she could continue this conversation tomorrow.

Yuya turned to scan the area for Kyoshiro so they could continue their schedule together but was surprised to see quite a unique character standing not but three feet away from her.

"What—What can I do for you, sir?" she asked the person, a little taken aback at his sudden appearance.

"Do not get a swollen head," he said bluntly.

Yuya blinked in mild surprise.

"Yukimura-san has reason for attending this particular academy. Do not think you are special in any way for being chosen as his… 'project partner.' "

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the flood of bodies that were moving onto their next class or hurrying home during their break in classes.

The only characteristics Yuya was able to catch were long brown hair, a bandana, and dark eyes.

_Who the—?_

"Yuya! There you are! Ready to go?" Kyoshiro asked as he managed to maneuver through the crowd over to her.

"Um… yeah, I am."

She followed her friend, glancing over her shoulder one more time in a vain attempt to see that person again.

_Well, I can assure you, Bandana Boy, that Shiina Yuya does _not _get a swelled head!_

With that indignant thought, she continued on her way.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(2) I'm not sure how Japanese label their class rooms in college, so I'm going to base it off of how they do it for high school.

(1) Whenever there's italicized between these things: — in the middle of a sentence that's not dialogue, it means that it's someone's thoughts. Just thought I'd let ya know so you wouldn't be confused.

_Yay! Yukimura was mentioned:) I love Yukimura! I'm his girl through-and-through! Eh heh… moving on. I hope this chapter wasn't boring… Erm, I thought it was…a little droned out…the next chapter will be more… lively (I hope). I also hope you review and tell me how it was (hint hint). And a HUGE hug to those who reviewed!_

**Kaeru-sama, **Shiori The Lady Kazekage,** twilight09, **SKR (anonymous), **Reignashii,** Shinomori Kyo,** this is REAL good (anonymous), **Paradigm08,** bluetinkerbell, **Impashence

_Thank you so much for reviewing!_

_Ciao!_

_P.S. Right after I wrote this, I watched episode 26 of SDK—the last one… I almost cried… especially when I saw my Yuki-san at the end when he heard Yuya's voice… the ending was so disappointing, too. And who the hell was it that said Yuya's name? I hope it was Kyo, but I have a sinking feeling that it was Kyoshiro…_

_-Sayo124 then proceeds to curl up into a ball and cries herself nearly to death-_

_At least I watched an ep of Saiyuki Reload afterwards to cheer me up, but still… Yukimura… -starts crying again-_


	3. Lunch Date

_**Author's Notes:**__ Gomenasai!! It's been waaaaay too long. I have no excuse really, but for those of you who are curious, visit my profile in the top where it says "updates" to find you answer as to my delay and any future ones. And thank you ever-so-much for the reviews! I tried replying to all of them, but alas I could not and have lost track on which I have replied to and which I have not… Eh… heh? I'll reply to the ones for this chapter right away, I swear!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ -Looking dignified- How dare you assume that a disclaimer could actually trick me into saying that I don't own Samurai Deeper Kyo? ………………………Now hang on a second here…_

_**Title: **__Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 3:**__ Lunch Date_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Yuya, um… I don't mean to… _offend_, but don't you think—"

Yuya whirled. "_You!_ Shut up!" she growled.

Kyoshiro—wisely—did so. After a few seconds, he took to watching in well—and wisely—hidden amusement as Yuya stopped and stamped her foot like a temperamental toddler. "Where the _hell_ is that 'Tora' guy when you need him?" she vented. "I don't know left to right around here—and he _knows _that—so what does he do? He goes and dumps me in the middle of nowhere!"

"Yu…ya…san…" Kyoshiro hesitantly began, "I'm sure he didn't _purposely_ 'dump us'—as you so kindly put it—"

Yuya whirled to face him again. "_You!_ Shut up!"

Kyoshiro did so.

Yuya pouted for a few seconds before sighing. "I guess I'll have to ask someone for directions," she muttered in a tone that was nothing short of dark and threatening to anyone who might annoy her while she did so. Turning to her left, she spotted a small group of girls. Wrinkling her nose slowly in disgust, she turned to her right. She then gave a dramatic _it'll-_have_-to-do_ sigh before briskly setting off after some random guy.

"Sir!" she called. "I was wondering if maybe you could… What are you doing…? Wait- no- _stop_! There's no need to run away! I'm not going to—" But she drifted off as she realized he had very quickly fled after glancing over his shoulder at her. She scowled after him, though she couldn't see him through the throng of other students. "And have a very nice day to you, too!" she retorted.

Kyoshiro, who had been desperately been fighting off his laughter, suddenly exploded into bouts of it, sometimes laughing so hard he doubled over.

Yuya whirled to look at him, expression well passed pissed. "_You!_ Shut up!"

Kyoshiro stifled his chuckles and, wisely, did so.

Yuya grumbled before turning back around and scanning the crowds again.

"Um, Yuya, I don't mean to intrude on your precious plan—"

"Kyoshiro, do you enjoy living—"

"—but don't you think that we learned a lesson here—"

"—because I'm starting to sense that maybe you're—"

"—through trial and error?"

"—taking it too much for granted."

There was a pause as both of them digested what the other had said. Then, Yuya whirled around—since she hadn't bothered turning to look at him while she had been giving her earlier threat/warning—and growled, "_You!_ Shut up!"

This time Kyoshiro merely sighed in exasperation.

Yuya suddenly, stopped, her annoyed expression turning to one of panic. "Crap! Kyoshiro, almost everyone's gone!" She stopped to desperately look around her.

Kyoshiro paused for a second. "So…?"

"_So_," Yuya snapped, "help me find a teacher or a part of the staff—hell, at this point find me something that can talk and will listen to me—so I can ask for directions."

"Well, the young Miss seems to be lost."

"Kyoshiro, this is no time for—" she abruptly cut herself off when she realized it wasn't Kyoshiro who had spoken.

"Ano…(2)" she uttered, turning towards the voice.

There, one hand placed on his left hip so he could lean forward slightly in a friendly appearance, stood a beaming man.

Not just any man, either. Oh, no. Yuya knew him from magazine articles and Newspaper clippings—not to mention several posters, the Internet, and even a few CDs.

Standing before them was _the_ Yukimura Sanada.

"Ano… ne… (2)" she uttered again, completely at a loss for words as a fine pink dust settled on her cheeks. _He saw me blow up_, she thought, growing slightly abashed. _He saw my temper tantrum. Gods, he must think I'm an immature child_—

"But I see your dilemma…" Yukimura said in a cheerful, yet drawled in a way only Yukimura was able to do (1), tone.

Yuya opened her mouth then closed it again, not wanting to appear to be drooling.

"Now, how might I be able to assist you…?" he wondered aloud, right index finger tapping his chin. Though Yuya couldn't identify it as such since she didn't know Yukimura well, there was a playful glint in his eyes. One that made them even more livelier than usual and—if possible—even more dazzling. "I know!" he finally said at last, snapping his fingers as though coming onto something and going back to beaming again. "I can help you find your way!"

Yuya's mouth opened and closed again before she managed. "Yukimura-sama… thuh-thank you, but we can manage on our own." _Dear kami, I _stuttered.

"Alrighty," he said in his warm, able-to-melt-anyone voice. "But I'll also be going with you."

"A… no?" Yuya managed. She felt slightly stupid that was all she seemed to be able to say, but she was also dumbfounded that one of the biggest popstars of the century was standing right before her.

"You see," Yukimura started to explain, "I share a lot of the same classes as you."

"Ano… I thought you weren't going to be able to make it today?" No matter how much she might have wanted to crawl under a rock, she was curious and wanted—more like _needed_—to know. _And how does he know what classes I have? _she wondered.

"Ah, I managed to get away," was his simple response.

"Managed to…?" Yuya echoed, dumbfounded not at his words but at how those words seemed to relax her enough to have her stop comprehending her own language.

"Yuya, I don't mean to interrupt, but…"

With that, Yuya snapped back to reality and looked over at Kyoshiro before blinking, as though remembering just now that he existed. "Oh… yeah."

"Shall I lead the way?" Yukimura asked then continued, "I know this place pretty well, actually. I do believe we are to go this way," at their confused looks. Without skipping a beat, he turned and started down the hall.

Yuya stood, staring a few seconds, before jogging to catch up, walking stride-for-stride almost with Yukimura. She waved absentmindedly in the direction of Kyoshiro to follow—not even bothering to look at him—and turned to look at Yukimura's profile, tracing the lines of his face, amazed that he was actually _the_ Yukimura Sanada even to this moment. After several seconds, she asked, "What did you mean…? When you said that you knew this place, that is?"

"Ah, aren't you inquisitive?"

"Eeh… Well, I just… I've no idea… You seem…" Yuya mentally cursed herself for sounding so stupid. But, as it just happened, every time she tried to explain her "inquisitiveness," another, better explanation filled her mind and when she started on that sentence, another filled her mind, abruptly quieting the other. Thing was, there were too many explanations.

"I never expected… The school seems to be…"

Yukimura cut in with a noise that could not be explained by any other word than _chiggle._ It wasn't giggling or chuckling, but a combination of both. The sound was surprisingly feminine-ish.

"Ah! Look, the class room!"

Yuya had no time to continue her thoughts on Yukimura's _'chiggling'_ because the only thought in her mind as she ran into the class—nearly barreling over the teacher in the process—was _I never thought I would ever _want_ to see a teacher; gods, I can't believe I finally made it_. Never in her life had she been more happy to see a class room.

And she exclaimed so profusely to her teacher for a full two minutes.

"Your friend seems to remind me of me." This was directed at Kyoshiro.

Kyoshiro, in return, whipped his head in the direction of Yukimura.

"Begging your pardon?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya sighed, relieved. "Class is over," she murmured, standing and gathering her things. "And I don't have another class for almost two hours…"

"Yuya! Wanna go catch some grub?"

Yuya turned towards Kyoshiro. "No, I don't to _catch _some _grub_. I'd like to _eat _some_ lunch_," she informed him, talking to him like he couldn't speak his own language—and he couldn't, in Yuya's mind, thanks to all his slang. "Anyway, where's Yukimura? Since we're… 'project partners' I need to talk to him… Even though we don't have any assignments yet…"

"I heard my name so I thought I'd drop by," a certain someone said from behind Yuya.

She jumped and turned to face Yukimura himself. "Oh, hey," she stammered.

"What did you want me for?"

"U- Um, what do you have now? A class or anything?"

"Nope!" Yukimura beamed happily. "I'm free for a while."

"Oh, okay, good. Yeah, good, so um… Do you think you could have lunch with Kyoshiro and me? I mean, it would be a good time to talk about some things." Yuya paused for a second before turning to Kyoshiro. "Aren't you supposed to be 'partners' with Kyo or someone?"

Kyoshiro's care-free expression immediately darkened.

Yuya gave him a curious look. "Um… Kyoshiro?"

"I'm sure we can… catch up later," was his response.

Yuya frowned, unsure as to his strange behavior. "Are you trying to get out of your responsibilities?" she asked. "Huh? Are you?"

Kyoshiro did a double-take. "N—No," she stammered. "I'm—"

"Trying to," Yuya finished for him, placing her hands on her hips.

"No, I'm not!" Kyoshiro protested.

"No, I don't want to hear it! Now go find this Kyo figure and tell him that the four of us are going to have lunch together."

"I don't think he'll agree to—" Kyoshiro began.

Yuya's eyes flashed. "Are you saying you're not going to ask?" she asked threateningly.

Kyoshiro nearly cowered. "No," he answered weakly. "I'll ask him."

"Good!" Yuya beamed happily. "Now run along and find him!" she bubbled.

Kyoshiro scampered away.

Yuya stared after him a second before whirling around when she heard a chuckle. "I just love little quarrels like that. _So_ much fun to watch!" Yukimura told her at her confused expression.

"Oh…?"

"Yep."

Yuya smiled at him, thoroughly perplexed at his odd behavior. "Anyway, shall we head out to that hall to wait for Kyoshiro?"

"Sure!" Yukimura agreed easily. "And you can tell me _all_ about yourself!"

Yuya grinned. "Sure! I'll tell you _everything_!" Yuya Shiina, did, as it was, like to talk, especially about herself.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"…But that was in second grade… I was sorely disappointed, too…"

"I bet," Yukimura agreed brightly. "Then what happened?"

"Well—" she began.

Kyoshiro timidly cut in as he slinked through the halls to stand near her. "Yuya?"

Said girl turned to look at him. "Kyoshiro?" she asked, looking a little surprised, like she had momentarily forgotten he existed—which she probably had with how wrapped up she been giving Yukimura a full biography of her life. "What are you—? _Hey! _Where's that Kyo guy?"

"That's the thing," Kyoshiro hesitantly began. Yuya's green eyes narrowed at him.

"_Yes_?" she hissed, her tone sounding almost as like a warning.

"Uh… I asked him to join us for lunch as…" he stopped to thin of the right word. "Well, as _civilly_ as I could… But, he…" he let off again, thinking off another word. "He _politely_ declined."

Yuya's face blanked. "He what?"

"…Declined?" Kyoshiro very meekly responded, hoping the days events didn't include an early demise.

Her green eyes were snapping with energy. "Oh," she began, tone laced with the promise of extreme hurt, "no, he did _not_. Kyoshiro, where is this mother—?"

"Behind you," a dry voice droned, interrupting her.

Yuya whirled to face that 'mother—' only to come face to face with extremely shocking blood-red eyes. Her own green eyes widened. "Y—" Unruly ebony hair twitched in as the 'mother—' cocked his head at her. A smirk slowly spread across his lips. "_You_!" she exclaimed.

"And hello to you, too," he replied easily, red eyes glinting with amusement.

"Hey, Kyo," Kyoshiro greeted as warmly as was possible for him—which was through gritted teeth and with narrow eyes.

Kyo nodded in recognition. "Asshole," he responded.

"Hey!" Yuya cut in. "I'm the only one who's allowed to call him names! You have no right—"

Red eyes glowered down at her, all traces of amusement gone, causing her to choke back the rest of her statement.

"Now what were you saying before I showed up?" Kyo's voice was deathly calm and intimidating all at the same time.

Yuya's eyes widened as she remembered exactly what has her all wound up. "Oh, that's right!" she exclaimed before pinning Kyo with her intense, green eyes. "You will join us for lunch," she stated.

A highly amused smirk spread across his face. He looked on the verge of chuckling. "And if I refuse?"

Yuya puffed out her cheeks and took a huge step closer to him so that she was just inches away from him. She stood up on tiptoes so she was about even with his chin.

_His face looks so smooth…_ she couldn't help but note. She then immediately shook herself back to the present.

"Well, then you'll be sorry," she promised. A voice in her head laughed at the stupidity behind the threat since there was no way she could back it up… _Or maybe that's Kyo laughing,_ she corrected herself when she realized he was now chuckling, amused smirk still in place.

"How do you plan to do that?" he asked once he had stopped chuckling.

"Well…" she began, her voice strong and promising. "I'll…" she tried again in the same tone. "Uh…" she stammered, voice losing it's edge. "That is…" she uttered, this time her tone meek. "Erm…"

"Don't make a threat unless you can back it up, little girl," Kyo told her. And the tone he said it in pissed Yuya off to no end. His tone implied that she was beneath him; that she was weak; that she was pathetic…

Her temper flared. And that temper had a history of getting her into trouble and now was no exception. "Then… then… I'll be forced to go on a date with you! How's that, mister? Ain't so high and mighty—"

She was interrupted by a chuckle. "You think that's a threat?"

"Well… _yeah_… I mean… you hate me, right? So why would you…?"

"I just wouldn't show up," he replied easily.

"_What_?"

"If you threaten me with something as trivial as a date, I just wouldn't show up," Kyo repeated.

Yuya gave him a glare. "Oh, okay, then. How about this: Kyo… Mibu, was it? Okay, good. Now, Kyo Mibu, you _will_ go to lunch with us," she ordered, placing her hands on her hips.

"And why is that?" he drawled.

"Because I said so."

Kyo smirk widened even more. "Well, I guess since the little lady says it, I guess I have to."

"Well, then I guess I'll just—" she started to burst before what he said had sunk in. "And… oh… Well, good. Yeah. That's right! You don't mess with Yuya Shiin—"

"Just shut up," Kyo interrupted. "If we're going, then let's go."

"I was just about to say that!" Yuya said tartly. "Alright, let's go!" she called over her shoulder.

"They're gone," Kyo drawled.

Yuya whirled only to find that what he said was true.

"Where'd they go?" she cried, horrified.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The restaurant itself was only about five hundred meters from the college. It was a small thing, but cozy. There was a homey feeling about it and the food was relatively good. The tea was delicious. Their were about nine tables and seven booths. The windows were large and allowed a lot of sunlight through.

Yukimura liked it. To Kyoshiro, it was merely a restaurant.

"Do you think it was really fair to leave them like that?" Yukimura asked, tone upbeat and happy.

"There's no way in hell I'm staying around Kyo more than necessary. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to kill me yet today as it is…"

"Why is that?"

"We've never really gotten along and now that we're partners in class and I asked him to go out to dinner he's a little less than pleased…"

"I see," Yukimura murmured happily.

"If I had stayed much longer, something would've triggered Kyo and then…" Kyoshiro shuddered. "I don't think I'd be around any longer. Kyo can get pretty scary when he's mad… especially when he's mad at me."

"So, are you sure it was wise to leave Miss Yuya with him? If his temper snaps while she's around, her being a poor, innocent, quite defenseless, cute miss…" Despite his words, he was beaming and his tone was merry.

"Neh, she should be fine. She can take care of herself. And I think some alone time between Yuya and Kyo could frustrate Kyo and show him he's not as smart and high-and-mighty as he thinks."

Yukimura cocked his head in genuine confusion, still beaming. "Why is that?"

Kyoshiro gave a self-pity sigh. "Because anyone who stays around Yuya alone for too long gets frustrated out of their mind and might need to take an emergency trip to the psychiatrist."

Yukimura chuckled. "She sounds like quite a girl!"

"Oh, she _is_, _believe_ me," Kyoshiro groaned.

"Do you think Kyo just might have met his match?" the pop star asked innocently.

Kyoshiro scoffed. "Pffft! I think he just met someone who could easily put him on a leash!"

"Really, now?" Yukimura drawled.

"Yeah… I'm kinda shocked that I'm still around and sane."

"Maybe Yuya is just what Kyo needs then, hmm? If she's as amazing as you say then maybe she's that someone who could help Kyo come out of himself and see the world. He sure is a cold man, wouldn't you agree? Yuya could help change him into a better person."

Kyoshiro shrugged. "Who knows? Anything is possible with Yuya, but… changing Kyo into a better person? Now, that's a little far-fetched."

"Maybe they were destined to meet or something," Yukimura mused, rolling his wrist to stir his cup of sake before taking a swig—Kyoshiro had to mentally remind himself that the only reason Yukimura was getting sake was thanks to a fake I.D. he had somehow obtained.

"You mean, she could be his… soul mate or something?" Kyoshiro clarified skeptically.

"Maybe," was all Yukimura said before turning to a passing waiter. "Miss, would you please be so kind as to bring me more sake?"

She beamed and nodded. "Sure!"

"Thanks," he replied before turning back to Kyoshiro. "Remind me what we were talking about."

Kyoshiro shook his head. "Nothing."

"Oh, by the way, where's that Yuya character? I thought she was coming to lunch with us." Yukimura plopped his elbows on the table and leaned on them, one cheek propped against either hand.

Kyoshiro shook his head. Yukimura was a different drunk—he was, in fact, a happy drunk. And a forgetful one at that. Kyoshiro had to wonder how Yukimura was going to be able to make it through class without giving it away that he wasn't sober. Then again, anyone who didn't know his usual self would have a hard time telling…

Kyoshiro sighed. "Anyway, how about you finish up this round of sake and then call it a day?"

Yukimura shrugged, grinning. "Maybe. I usually drink a little longer, though."

The other furrowed his brow. "Aren't you worried about class?"

The pop star gave a laugh. "No, I'll be alright. Now, back to our Yuya conversation…"

Kyoshiro nodded in agreement. Everyone's inner mind worked differently, especially when intoxicated with alcohol, and it seemed that Yukimura temporarily forgot things before they popped right back in. Kyoshiro learned not to ask questions. "Sure; what about her?"

"Do you think I could ask her out? Think she'd agree?"

"Uh…" Kyoshiro stammered. "That is… well, there's no reason why she wouldn't, but… there's also no reason why she _would_. I mean…"

Yukimura started to 'chiggle' again. "Or maybe that Kyo figure would make a more suitable guy for her. As stated earlier, it's very possible that they could be soul mates or something. Ah! My sake's arrived!" he merrily said, thanking the waiter and wasting no time taking a sip.

Kyoshiro blinked at him before skeptically mumbling, "Maybe…"

"Wanna try and hook 'em up? I do so love to play match maker!" Another chiggle.

"Uh… Well…"

The pop star grinned. "Aw, come on! It'll be fun! And they both seem to need a special someone!"

Kyoshiro mulled it over thoroughly before sighing. "Alright, fine. If by the time class starts again they haven't one another, we can try and get them together."

Yukimura took another sip of sake and then gave a go-happy grin. "This sounds like fun!"

"Only you would say that…" Kyoshiro grumbled, sipping on his soda.

"You gonna warn Kyo about Yuya?" Yukimura murmured to him.

"Now why in hell would I do that?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) Yukimura fans, you know what I mean. Non-Yukimura fans… You better go out and watch some SDK with Yuki-san in it before I get my hands on you… But he talks in such a distinct way, it's just… Aiii! -squeals-

(2) Ano (or _Ano ne_) is Japanese for those who don't know. It's translated as _Um_ or _Excuse me_. It's used as "um" in Yuya's case.

_Yay! I finished! Walla:) Sorry about the long wait, I just didn't like how this chapter turned out… I still don't like it a hundred percent, but… Yukimura!! Meep! He showed up! _nn_ Now the party can _really_ start! And thank you reviewers!!_

**Kaeru-sama, **twilight09, **Reignashii, **Paradigm08, **Impashence, **Shiori The Lady Kazekage, **YuyaSama, **Aeternus-Spes, **yokikun ****(anonymous), **Roaring Flames, **lipsosmooth (anonymous), **Ginny-cry

_Wow… even more than last time:) And once again, sorry if I didn't get around to responding to your review. I tried! I'll get them all this time, I swear! _

_Ciao!_


	4. To Kill a Mockingbird

**_Author's Notes: _**_Woo! This chapter was written fairly quickly! -dances- And thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! They all made my day! Now, without further ado, here's the next installment! _

**_Disclaimer:_**_ For now, I don't have copy rights, BUT, I'm looking into leasing Yukimura and a few other characters (coughKyocough)… -triumphant smile- Think the publishers will go for it? -crosses fingers- Yeah, I don't think so, either… _

**_Title: _**_Fallen for You _

**_Chapter 4:_** _To Kill a Mockingbird _

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At times, there are words that can not describe they way someone feels. The simplicity of 'happy' does not seem to fully grasp how one feels when 'ecstatic.' In the same manner, 'sad' does not fully comprehend 'depressed.'

In the matter currently at hand, 'furious,' 'infuriated,' or even 'irate,' could not come close to the scolding-hot rage that slowly burned up in Yuya. 'Fuming' was the closest thing to what she was feeling.

"I don't know where they went to, but when I find them—" she ground out, stomping around in large circles in a feeble attempt to spot them.

"You are acting like a little brat," A cool voice retorted from her left. "It's embarrassing, really."

Yuya gave Kyo a withering look from the corner of her eye. The crimson eyed man didn't even acknowledge her. '_They're especially going to pay for dumping me with _him.'

"Alright," Yuya finally said, stopping her little tantrum. "They're not here, I'm hungry, and I only have a little over an hour left to eat. So I'm going to eat, and…" she paused to give Kyo a quick once-over. "And I guess I have _no_ other choice than to take you with me in the hopes of finding them in a food joint."

"And who says I'm going with you?" He raised an eyebrow.

Yuya threw her hands up in the air. "You said you'd come to lunch with me!"

"No, I agreed to go with you as a group," Kyo corrected in a bored tone. "And does it appear that you're with your… companions currently? I didn't think so; which means I no longer have any obligation to you."

Yuya did not miss the look of disgust that crossed his face at the word 'companions.'

"What's your problem!?" Yuya demanded. All thoughts of anger management tossed out the window. "You have this whole 'screw the world' thing going on and I _don't like it_. You're the most pig-headed, stubborn, obnoxious, annoying, self-absorbed ass-hole—"

"You forgot good looking," Kyo very calmly interrupted, looking over to his left at something.

Yuya nearly stamped her foot. "I can't believe you!" she exclaimed. But she couldn't help but remember who had told her that just last night—Kyoshiro. "And what is it with you and Kyoshiro? You have the same last name and sometimes you act _just _like him—"

She was abruptly choked out her sentence when Kyo's bloody eyes shot in her direction, narrowing dangerously. He was suddenly right in front of her, bent slightly so his eyes were level with hers. She swallowed and barely kept herself from backing up.

"I don't care what comes out of that prissy mouth of yours," Kyo muttered lowly, moving his face closer to hers, causing her to take a tiny, sharp breath inward, "but if you ever—_ever_—compare me to that dumb-ass, you will surely regret it." Yuya couldn't help but notice that his lips brushed against hers slightly—and her subconscious was curious as to why Kyo found it necessary to stand _this_ close—and that it felt… actually, it felt pretty damn good.

She suddenly felt the urge to kiss him and abruptly yanked her face away from his to return his glare, though hers couldn't compare to his since her heart wasn't in it. "That's good to know," she informed him. "Now, do you want to go to a café or a restaurant?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yukimura's face bore a giddy smile as he stretched and placed a tip on the table. "How are we going to avoid Yuya if she sees us around in the next hour?" he asked Kyoshiro.

Kyoshiro, in turn shrugged. "I hadn't thought of that…" he admitted before trying, "I guess we stay here?"

"What if they come here to eat?" The pop star cocked his head as he pondered his own question.

"Erm…" An image of an enraged Yuya popped into his mind. "Then we hide under the table and pray to a Kami that they don't see us," he finished seriously.

"Hey, I know someone who lives just about five minutes from here. How about we get the check and then go over there? Then Yuya and Kyo would never find us!" Yukimura beamed at his idea.

"That… doesn't sound too bad actually. Sure. I'll do that." Kyoshiro then turned to a waitress. "Could I get the check, please?"

"Oh, sure!" she happily chirped in reply before taking off.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya hated being ignored. She hated it more than anything in the world. She even hated it more than Kyoshiro's playboy magazines and his perverted personality. The only thing she might have hated more than being ignored just might be Kyo Mibu.

So, being ignored _by_ Kyo Mibu was pure torture, plain and simple.

"Are you just going to sit there and say nothing the whole time?" she finally demanded, slapping her menu down on the table.

She got no reply.

"Are you listening!" she called over the table. To her growing frustration, she once again got no answer.

And Kyo didn't seem to plan on giving her one any time soon. Hand propping up his chin in a nonchalant manner, unruly hair twitching ever so slightly from the ceiling fan that was above them, Kyo seemed more interested on staring out the window at the passing pedestrians with his blood-stained eyes. Well—_glare _at them as they continued on whilst giving him a nervous look seemed to be more of the case. And _somehow_, by some miraculous sixth sense, they all seemed to know that Kyo was looking out at them. And _somehow_ every one turned their head in the direction of the small café that Kyo was currently occupying just to see him glowering out at them.

"Kyo," Yuya began as patiently as possible, "please—puh-_lease_—just answer me." Though her words were kind and polite, her tone was quiet, slow, and full of toxic venom.

Though he didn't bother to look at her, he murmured, "I swear, you're even more annoying than everyone else."

"'Everyone else'?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

"People, in general, are annoying," he answered laconically.

Yuya tilted her head. "Eh? Every one of them?"

"There isn't one person I've met that hasn't annoyed me. There isn't one person I met that I haven't hated." And despite his words, he spoke with a calm, indifferent—almost bored—voice.

Yuya shook her head. "You know, you really _can_ be immature… You act so tough. You're so full of yourself. No one could ever actually find happiness like that."

Kyo rolled his magnificent eyes. "Gods, woman, you _are_ stupid."

"Ne?!" she exclaimed suddenly, that one comment ticking her off the most. "At least I'm not an arrogant, pompous, low-life, baka of a—"

" 'Ignorant, arrogant, low-life,'" Kyo echoed in a mocking tone. "You are a redundant fool, and I have no time to play such games." He abruptly stood up and started to leave.

Yuya nearly gaped. '_He has the _gall _to mock me? He actually thinks I'm gonna let him get _away_ with those comments? Mocking me in that way…_' She suddenly let off and blinked before a confident grin spread across her face '_If it's a mocker he wants…_'

Yuya also stood up and placed her hand on her hips in a preppy way. "I have no time to play such childish games!" she exclaimed so that he could clearly hear her and her tone of voice. A _mocking _tone.

Kyo stopped and gave her a hard look over his shoulder. After a few seconds of glaring at her, he turned and took his place at the booth. His intense eyes never once left her own. It put her at a slight unease, not that she was going to show it. If anything, she mimicked the look, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Kyo's hard, crimson eyes stared at her for about a minute and fifteen seconds before he suddenly smirked.

Yuya also smirked in response.

"I see you find this quite amusing," Kyo told her, placing his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers, and resting his chin on top of them.

"I see you find this quite amusing," Yuya echoed, also placing her elbows on the table, lacing her own fingers, and placing her chin atop it.

Kyo ever so slightly cocked his head. "Are you sure you want to _play _this _game_?" Kyo asked confidently.

"Are you sure you want to _play_ this _game_?" was Yuya's response as she also cocked her head slightly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a smirk blossomed across his face. An air of confidence seemed to flow around him. "Did you know…?" he started, letting off so Yuya could repeat, which she did almost obediently.

"Did you know…"

"That I seem to be…" Kyo continued.

"That I seem to be…" Yuya echoed.

"Helplessly in love…"

"…Helplessly in love…" Yuya repeated, not so sure she liked where this was going.

"With Kyo?"

Yuya's eyebrow twitched, but she repeated, "…With… Kyo?" The way she said his name was said with certain disgust that unmatched any other.

"Now that wasn't right!" Kyo chided, that amused look playing around in his eyes.

"Now that wasn't right!" she echoed.

"Like _this_…"

"Like _this_…"

"_Kyo_." And the way he said his name, it was like he was speaking to a lover. His tone was almost a seductive purr yet it held a confident, powerful air about it. He said it like it was the richest word in the world that left the most delicious after taste.

Yuya resisted the urge to twitch as she took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes for a second, before saying, "_Kyo_." But her voice cracked. There was no feeling around the name. It was spat out with forced emotion.

Kyo looked smug. "We can play this game all day, little girl."

Yuya resisted the urge to snap at him that her name was _not_ little girl. That it was _Yuya_. But that was exactly what he wanted. So instead, she forced out, "We can play this game all day, little girl," and tried to tell herself that it was humorous that she was calling Kyo a little girl just like he was with her.

It wasn't all too amusing…

Kyo, however, had merely been testing if Yuya was indeed serious about mocking him like that.

"Do you do this often?" Kyo asked

"Do you do this often?"

"Do you enjoy mimicking people?"

"Do you enjoy mimicking people?"

"Did you know that I enjoy _long _nights of wild, mad passionate love? Especially with someone like you?"

Oh, _hell_ no. He _did not_ just say that! There was _absolutely no way_ she was going to say _that_! Her green eyes narrowed viciously. Kyo's daunting red ones gleamed back. He was definitely ruthless in this. The both had their pride and once this had started, both were determined not to lose. Kyo, by saying things that would test her patience and pride. Yuya, by making sure to repeat every little thing he said, hoping to drive him nuts with it. She wasn't only mimicking his words, but his actions, too.

But _that_—

Looking deeper into Kyo's eyes, Yuya saw that he had a good idea that he had won and was going to gloat in it. Her teeth gritted. The demonic man smiled in an almost malevolent way, his eyes saying _I'm waiting_.

Yuya gave a long outward sigh of frustration before forcing out, "Did you know that I enjoy—"

"Thank you for waiting and I apologize that it took so long!" A chirpy voice suddenly interrupted as a woman about seventeen years old suddenly popped up, smiling brightly. "I was busy. This one kid decided he wanted a sundae despite his parent's warnings that he had enough to eat. Of course, he didn't listen and he—" she stopped suddenly and blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! What can I get you to drink? Have you decided what you'd like to eat yet?" The waiter looked over at Yuya, expecting a reply.

Yuya gave no answer, however. Her eyes were focused on Kyo, telling him that she was still playing the little game.

Kyo, a wonderful plan in mind, replied, "Yes. I have a liking for spicy things. Just get me whatever you have that seems to be the hottest." Kyo then flashed a dazzling smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a very shapely body?"

Both Yuya and the waiter gasped and turned red, both for completely different reasons. Yuya was mortified when she realized that Kyo planned on her telling the waiter that, word for word, while the waiter herself was merely incredibly flattered at such a bold compliment. The younger woman covered her mouth with her pad to hide a surprised smile while waving her hand in the air. "S- Sir. I don't think you're girlfriend would be pleased with you saying that to other woman. Right?" She looked over at Yuya before continuing without waiting for an answer.

Yuya paused a second, tying to look as if she was making a final choice as she desperately tried to remember Kyo's sentence word for word. Finally, she replied, "Yes. I have a… liking for spicy things." One sentence down, one more—err,_ two _more—to go. "Just get me whatever you have…"she paused and froze. What had he said next? That was spiciest? Something like that… The waiter gave her a confused look while Kyo leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms smugly.

Taking a wild stab at it, Yuya guessed and continued, "…That seems to be the hottest."

Seeing Kyo's lips twitch slightly, Yuya knew she had said it correctly.

The waiter nodded. "Sure, sweetie! No prob! You two are alike, huh? Both like spicy things."

Yuya didn't answer as she rolled the next sentence around in her head. There was absolutely _no_ way—

She jerked slightly as she received a kick in the side of her leg. She looked over at Kyo to see he did not forget that last sentence and was expecting her to say it to the waiter's face. Or he won. It was that simple. Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, Yuya nearly croaked, "Has anyone told you that you have a very shapely body?"

The waiter gave a short cry of surprise and quickly covered her mouth to stifle to noise. Her eyes widened as she took a few steps backward. "Uh… um…" she managed. Yuya's face was completely red. The waiter stuttered for a second before whirling. "I'll be back with your meals in a second," she called to them, completely forgetting to take their drink orders in her hurry.

Yuya wanted to crawl under the table and _die_.

"That wasn't so bad," Kyo murmured, still smirking.

Yuya had the urge to deck him. Instead, she croaked, "That… wasn't so bad."

How he was going to pay the moment this game ended…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So, what do you do for a living, Kyoshiro-san?"

Kyoshiro blinked in surprise.

After leaving the restaurant in a hurry so as not to be seen by Yuya or Kyo, they headed over to Yukimura's friend's place to stay for the rest of the small lunch time that remained. His friend had been another college student--a _woman­_, though. The name he had gotten was Sakuya.

She was definitely attractive to Kyoshiro, but… it was a little awkward suddenly to be talking to her. His chest was aflutter and his cheeks were permanently pink.

"I—I'm a student, as you already know."

"Do you have a job, as well?" Sakuya questioned, taking a sip of her tea.

Kyoshiro looked down at his own cup of warm, greenish liquid. He saw his reflection. He was blushing—_blushing_ pity's sake! "I—I just started school. I didn't have a job in high school, so I didn't have one to continue once I graduated. As such, I haven't gotten one yet since I don't want the hassle of studying and working. Doing both would lower my grades and I'd rather have a better chance of getting a better job out of college than one from college. I do despise waiting on other people at restaurants."

Sakuya giggled. "I see," was her simple reply.

Kyoshiro's cheeks darkened even more. He wished Yukimura was there to help him have an intelligent conversation since Yukimura had no trouble with that, but, alas, he had disappeared almost right after they had arrived. Probably had gone fishing around for more sake…

"So, what about you, Sakuya-san? Do you work?"

Sakuya nodded. "Yes. I work at a nearby restaurant."

"Waiting?"

She nodded, making Kyoshiro regret his comment about hating to be a waiter.

"I don't mind," Sakuya assured suddenly, almost reading his thoughts. "We all have our own likes and dislikes."

Kyoshiro blinked at that. "Yeah…" This woman was almost too good to be true.

Suddenly Yukimura made his entrance. "Kyoshiro, are you ready to go? I'm sure our next class starts soon."

Kyoshiro looked torn as he looked from Sakuya to Yukimura. Sakuya blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry if I kept you. Please, go."

Kyoshiro looked at her, a little hurt she had actually said for him to go.

Sakuya almost did a double-take at his look. "It's not like—"she started, but sighed. "Uh… I could give you my number," she offered. "I really wouldn't mind talking again sometime over dinner." Kyoshiro brightened immensely as Sakuya stood, fetched a piece of paper and a pen and proceeded to write down her number.

"Here ya go," she said, when she finished, holding it out. Kyoshiro almost snatched it form her in his eagerness. Knowing he probably looked desperate; he quickly smiled and tried to cover that fact up. "So, I'll see you again soon?"

"That's up to you, isn't it? You're the one with my number, after all."

Kyoshiro left Sakuya's apartment elated.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya was ready to rip a certain someone by the time they left the restaurant. She was ready to scratch out that person's face or tear off his head. That person was Kyo, of course. _Gods_, she had never been so humiliated in her life! Every time he saw the waiter, he made a suggestive comment, expecting her to do the same—which she _had_ to repeat, of course. And he had ordered the most repulsive thing Yuya had ever seen or tasted—and she just _had _to eat it, of course.

She couldn't wait until she was able to give Kyo a piece of her mind.

"So, where to next?" Kyo nonchalantly asked.

"So, where to next?"

Kyo raised a single ebony brow. "Guess I get to pick," he murmured.

"Guess I get to pick," Yuya murmured back.

Kyo didn't say anything more but instead turned around and started down the sidewalk, Yuya uselessly following him, all the while plotting her revenge.

She glared daggers at the back of his head, imagining some sort of anvil falling on his head. But that would kill him… and she didn't want him _dead_, oh, no. She wanted him to feel the humiliation that she had felt.

_Just you wait, Kyo_, she told him mentally. _You'll get what's coming to you_—

Her thoughts were suddenly cut off as she collided into Kyo quite literally when he suddenly stopped walking.

She began to make a sound—a gentle breath escaped her lips, "Hu—?" She stopped herself just in time from losing the game.

"Shut up," Kyo demanded.

"Shut up," Yuya echoed.

"No, seriously now, _shut up_."

"No, seriously, shut up," she echoed in a soft whisper so Kyo could hear it but so that no one else would.

A few seconds went by and Kyo snarled and looked around. Yuya blinked and did as the same. What in hell had made Kyo act like this? The man in question let his right hand slowly travel to his left side, only to touch his hip. His hand flinched away like he had been burned before he let the appendage drop to his side again. His face relaxed and his stoic expression was back.

Acting like nothing had happened, he continued on. Yuya was dying inside to ask just what that was about, but decided against it. Instead, she looked around some more in a vain attempt at spotting what had riled Kyo up. She saw nothing special. They were merely traveling down the sidewalk… There were normal stores, shops, apartments, and other building around them. There were some people. There were cars. Nothing—

Yuya caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eyes and her head whipped around to get a better look. She saw nothing, once again. Blinking, she had to momentarily wonder if she had maybe lost her mind for a second.

Yuya's brows furrowed for a second before she shrugged it off. Whatever. It had nothing to with—

And Kyo stopped short again. Yuya slammed into his back again. She opened her mouth to protest, only to clamp it shut again. Darn the stupid game!

Yuya looked up into Kyo's intense eyes, pissed. Her expression demanded to know just what the hell his problem was.

It was then that he did something she _never_ in her wildest dreams would've expected him to do.

He turned, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her into his chest. He then dipped his head and used his mouth to push her head up in the perfect position for his intent. It was then that his lips connected with hers.

It was a fiery explosion. Yuya's lips were almost instantly numb from the flames that ignited in her nerves in her lips. Kyo parted his mouth slightly and —ever so gently—scraped his teeth over her bottom lip before nipping it slightly. Yuya went to give a startled noise but the moment her mouth had opened just the smallest bit, he ravaged her mouth, his tongue diving in to intertwine with hers.

Yuya struggled. She had _never_ been kissed like this before. She had barely been ever just kissed, period. She was floundering with her emotions, unsure as to what she should do next. Kyo ignited a feeling inside of her that she had no idea she could have. His tongue was dominating her and giving her weird felling of pleasure. Slowly, her eyes drifted closed.

And then Kyo pulled away. Yuya cracked a lid to see that he was staring down at her looking smug, as usual.

"Dogface, you _really_ need to learn how to kiss. That was the worst thing I have _ever_ experienced."

"Wuh­—_What_?" she demanded, eyes fully open now and blazing. "What the hell do you mean, you ass? All day, I've been getting shit from you. Well, you know what? _Screw_ you! I don't need you harassing me! I don't need you acting like a pompous—"

She was silenced by a finger being placed over her lips in a slightly gentle way.

She blinked in surprise and looked at him, curious. For a second, she thought he would say something like 'You don't now how to kiss, but I can teach you,' or 'everyone begins somewhere.' She was _expecting_ him to act tender and gentle, to say something romantic since he had his finger on her lips. But what she was _expecting_ is something different from reality.

When Kyo spoke, his sentence was simple. "Looks like I won that game of ours, huh?"

Yuya bit his finger.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_It's finally done:) Sorry this took forever to get out. I wrote it, but then I forgot to save it… So when I turned off my computer, I lost it… XP But it's all good now._

**Ginny-cry, **Reignashii, **Kaeru-sama, **Alex E. Tracer, **lips smooth (anonymous), **Daihanseed, **battenburg, **Paradigm08, **Roaring Flames, **twilight09, **YuyaSama**

_Thank you one and all! You may not believe it (since this saying is so trite), but reviews are what encouraged me to finish this chappy so quickly (wrote it in almost one sitting)! _

_So please review and I might be able to get another up sometime this week! _

_Ciao!_


	5. Butting Heads

_**Author's Notes: **__I love you all. Really, I do. You know just what to say to make me blush. I shall dedicate this chapter to all of you who read this!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ -running as fast as she can- I got it! I got it…! I got it…! -maniacal laughter as she holds up the copyright of SDK- I… I… I HAVE IT! I have— -stops suddenly- Wait… -looks at document and scowls- This is an electric bill! …Curses…_

_**Title:**__ Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 5:**__ Butting Heads_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya remained quiet as she and Kyo entered the college campus, her eyes scrutinizing the area for a particular pop star and her oh-so-annoying childhood friend. Her eyes narrowed when she saw that they were no where in sight. Were they avoiding her?

Kyo grinned at her less than pleased expression. "What's up?"

Her green eyes snapped in his direction to pin him with a menacing—or, at least, to her it was menacing—look that he brushed off effortlessly. "You know full well 'what's up'," she hissed at him.

His grin widened. "I'm afraid I don't, _please_ enlighten me."

Was he purposely grating on her nerves?

"And while you're at it, please try to look a little more mature, too. Your appearance makes you look like an under-aged brat, Dogface. Try to grow up."

Oh, yes, he was. He definitely was. Yuya scowled at him. "I _do_ look mature, thank you very much. It's just _your_ opinion on what mature is that needs to grow up. And I'm going to ignore that 'dogface' comment." Yuya's brow ticked at the word 'dogface.'

And Kyo found something he loved to find most of all.

"What's wrong with the word dogface? It suits you well." His tone was slow and casual.

Yuya's brow ticked again. "There's nothing wrong with it, I merely dislike the word," she bit out slowly so she wouldn't snap and lash out at him with snippy remarks.

A button.

"So… you dislike it that much?" he murmured more to himself than anyone else. "Hate to hear that, Dogface."

Yuya twitched. "Do not call me that," she ordered, giving him a death glare from the corner of her eyes.

A nice, shiny _button_.

A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. "I don't see why not. It just suits you so well. It also would make a nice nickname…" he drifted off, looking like he was pondering something. Yes," he finally continued. "Dogface will be your new nickname."

Green eyes flared with an icy yet hot and intense fire. "_No_," she firmly told him.

And, oh, how Kyo liked to toy with buttons.

"Yes, it will be," Kyo assured, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Unless you prefer something like… bitch, perhaps?"

The flame in Yuya's eye flared up even more, like a gallon of gasoline had been dumped on it. "_No_," she repeated.

"Then Dogface it is," the ebony-haired man bargained.

Yuya's brow twitched and she opened her mouth to further argue when someone else interrupted.

"Ah! Yuya!"

Yuya's mouth snapped shut as she whirled to face the approaching figure. "And _where_ in the seven hells have _you_ two been?" she demanded, her fury directed at someone else besides Kyo for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

Yukimura merely gave her a go-happy grin and wrapped an arm around Kyoshiro. "We went out to eat, of course!"

Yuya stared for a few seconds before slowly asking, "And you didn't wait for us because…?"

"You were arguing," Yukimura answered simply, his tone suggesting that his answer would solve all the problems in the world. He then gave one of his chiggles. "Yuya can be pretty scary when she's mad."

Kyoshiro fervently nodded, mumbling a silent prayer of thanks to the gods that someone else _finally_ understood what he went through every day. "You can say that again," he told the pop star once he had finished.

"Alrighty. Yuya can be pretty—"

"Ah… that was sarcasm…" Kyoshiro said, cutting him off.

Blue eyes looked over at him and blinked. "Kyoshiro has a sense of humor, ne?"

Kyoshiro, in reply gave a semi-nervous laugh as an affirmative.

"Do you have any idea what I went through being alone with _him_?" Her tone was sharp as she stabbed an accusing finger behind her, where Kyo stood.

"Aw, come now, Yuya… was it really _that_ bad being alone with someone as devilish and handsome as Kyo?" Yukimura flashed a grin.

Yuya's eyes met Kyoshiro's with the question _What's up with _him clearly written in her features. Her friend mouthed the word _drunk_ back to her and she blinked as understanding dawned.

This was not good. Not good at all.

"Will he be able to attend classes?" Yuya curiously inquired Kyoshiro, who was currently the victim of Yukimura's glomps.

"He's fine," Kyoshiro answered, prying off the pop stars hands. "He's just… really clingy."

Yukimura blinked before erecting himself so he was standing upright. "I just like hugs," he murmured softly.

Yuya wanted to slap Kyoshiro upside the head for upsetting the adorable celebrity.

"Um… Yukimura… Who are some of the more famous names and faces in history?" the green-eyes girl asked, wanting to know if his mind was in the right shape to comprehend anything said in class

She almost instantly regretted it.

It took forty seconds of Yukimura giving detailed accounts of battle scenes with names, places, and battle names to realize that he had no intention of shutting up for a long while.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya nodded fervently nearly twenty minutes later as Yukimura's mouth stopped moving. "Yes, I see; I see!" she agreed as she nonchalantly looked down at her wrist. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, giving a feigned horrified look. "I'm sorry, Yukimura, but class is going to begin soon, maybe we could continue this later…?"

Yukimura blinked at her. His eyes were much clearer and sharper by now, hinting that he was nearly sober. A grin spread across his features. "Ah, of course; of course, Yuya! I didn't mean t delay us in any way. Shall we take our leave, then?"

"O—Of course!" she stammered in agreement. She smiled nervously as she took a few steps. "U—Uh… this way, right?" she questioned, pointing in a random direction to get the small gang moving.

Yukimura gave one of his smiles, his eyes gently shutting as he gave another small chiggle.

Despite herself, Yuya felt her cheeks warming up. "I think Kyo has a class in a different direction," she suddenly said to calm herself down. "Right, Kyo—?" she cut herself off as she turned to receive an answer from the crimson-eyes man only to find him gone. "Wuh—?" she sputtered. Her mind screeched in frustration. "He left, too!" she yelled, turning to face Kyoshiro and Yukimura, her eyes venomous again. "What the hell is up with people and ditching me?" she demanded sharply.

She put her hands on her hips as she waited for an answer. Kyoshiro shrunk under her gaze and Yukimura just continued smiling gaily. "Uh—Yuya…" Kyoshiro stuttered.

It was then that a bell rang.

"Aish!" Yuya exclaimed, jerking. "We're going to be late!"

Without another word, she whirled and started off at a brisk pace, no longer having the desire to chew out certain annoying boys but instead hoping and praying she'd be able to hunt down her next class before the next bell rang in three minutes, signaling the start of class. (1)

"Yuya," a voice called after her. "Where are you going, might I ask?"

Yuya turned and gave Yukimura a curious look. "Going to class, of course!" she called back to him since he hadn't moved from the place he had been standing for several minutes.

Yukimura's grin grew innocent. "Ah, but our next classis _that_ way," he informed her, pointing in almost an opposite direction.

_Of _course_ it is!_ she mentally moaned to herself before she reluctantly backtracked until she was once again standing by Yukimura and Kyoshiro. "Alright, then," she murmured to the pop star. "Please show me where the room is…?"

Her reply was his grin and a "But of course, Miss Yuya!"

Yuya gave a resigned sigh before following the near-sober celebrity through the halls. It seemed that relying on Yukimura for help to her classes was going to become a regular thing… She made a face. That was something she definitely _didn't_ want to happen… After a while, he might start to think she was building a debt of some sort…

Yuya made a face as she continued through the halls. There was no way in hell she owed anyone _anything_.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A long sigh escaped her as she slumped in her chair when class ended. While college was most definitely harder than high school, it was easy to keep up with everything thanks to all her hard work in high school, college was merely like another step in high school… in a way. True, it was going to have a lot more work and projects and papers and such than high school had, but that was only expected. This was the _real thing_. This was where she was going to get her degree so she could get a job… Make a living… Buy a home… and maybe even find a husband and have children…

Yuya's cheeks exploded with heat at the thought.

Sure, it was probable that she would one day have children since many women did, but… that didn't mean that she was going to find a husband… She felt chagrined at the thought that it was quite possible for some jerk to impregnate her and then leave her, leaving her to fend for herself… Green eyes snapped wide as she mentally berated herself harshly. What was she _thinking_? Just where in hell had these thought _come_ from? One moment she had been musing about her new life in college and the next, she had married herself off—

And there she went again. Thinking about her future and having a husband… Sure, it was any person's natural reaction to muse about what their future held, but for some reason the thought merely scared Yuya. It forced a hard, cold stone to drop in her stomach and her mind almost froze under all the possibilities.

"Uh… Yuya?"

And just like that, all her thoughts shattered and she looked up, dazed, at Kyoshiro. Never in her life had she been more grateful that someone had bothered her while she was thinking.

"What?" she murmured in reply as she stood up and grabbed her shoulder bag.

"Well… you were just sitting there, staring into space looking a little… creepy," he admitted. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Yuya blinked as she turned at the door to look Kyoshiro I the eye. "Oh… Yeah. I'm fine. No worries, kay?"

Kyoshiro returned her smile. "Yeah, no worries."

For the first time in several days, Yuya and Kyoshiro started chatting like actual friends should—in a care-free, amiable, relaxed manner, occasionally forcing a laugh out of the other. And besides the moments that he said something stupid, causing Yuya to give him a slightly withering look, Kyoshiro rather enjoyed finally being able to act like this again. With that damn Kyo around and Yukimura—plus the whole new-to-college factor—he had been nothing but the subject of her scorn for a little while now, so it was a nice change in pace to—

"Ah, look what Fate has worked my way!" a cheerful voice interrupted the two's chatter, causing them both to abruptly cut themselves off as the turned their gazes to the—finally—sober man before them.

"Oh, Yukimura. I didn't see you coming out of the classroom or in there, so… sorry that I left without—"

Yukimura cut her off. "No problem, Yuya. You seemed a little… preoccupied."

She almost rolled her emerald eyes towards the ceiling. Why had everyone assumed she had been dying or something when all she wanted was a little bit off time to think? "Uh, actually, _no_. I wasn't 'preoccupied,' as you put it. I was just thinking about some things—"

"In other words," the pop star's bright voice chirped, "you were _preoccupied_."

Yuya blinked at him as she thought about it before throwing her hands up in the air in resignation and frustration combined. "Alright! I give up! I was preoccupied."

The other's head cocked slightly as warm eyes took her in. His eyes slowly scanned up and down her, taking everything about her in. "Hmm…" he hummed after a few seconds. "It seems that Yuya is quite a cutie!" His unique accent (2) almost sent shivers down her spine. Almost.

"Uh… um… oh?" she managed stupidly.

"Mm-hmm," was his hummed response. "Looking as cute as you do, I'm surprised I haven't asked you out yet," he admitted

To be one hundred percent honest, Yuya had to admit she was definitely shocked. Yukimura Sanada, the famous celebrity, the intensely wanted pop star, the topic of hundreds of girl gossip magazines, the most wanted young male in the country, was showing that sort of interest in _her_? Had the world imploded while she had been dazing back in the classroom and now everything was backwards or something…? Or maybe the alcohol was still affected his brain, after all. Deciding that it had to be the latter—since that was the plausible answer to the current situation—Yuya allowed her cheeks to color slightly and didn't fight that smile that spread across her lips. "And why would someone such as you show interest in someone like me?"

"Ah, I see that you aren't exactly comfortable with this knowledge."

Comfortable with the knowledge? _That _was the understatement of the year…

"You seem like someone who would rather date another model or something is all." '_A.K.A. a playboy,_' she mentally added.

"Hmm… I see. What would Yuya's reaction be, then, if I asked her out?"

…Alright… Now _that_ was something she had most certainly not expected to hear. In fact, it been about the last thing she had expected to come out of his mouth. She reeled back, looking at him, her eyes wider than healthy from shock.

"E—Excuse—?" she began to stammer.

"Who in their _right_ mind would _ever_ ask someone as plain as _you_ out?" a sudden oh-I'm-so-high-and-mighty-bow-before-me-or-face-my-wrath voice demanded.

Yuya's brow ticked and she didn't even have to turn around to know who it was tat had oh-so-boldly stated that. "Kyo," she gritted out in greeting, not daring herself to turn to look at him lest she lose her temper and attempt to do something she knew she would regret later.

"Dogface," he greeted 'respectfully.'

Yuya gave a small, unnoticed jerk as she whirled to face the oh-so-infuriating man. She had opened her mouth, ready to give a retort, when Yukimura cut in.

"So… what would be wrong if I were to show an interest in little Miss Yuya?" he inquired innocently.

Yuya's mouth snapped shut, her retaliation directed at Kyo shot down before she even said it. Her cheeks warmed slightly at the pop star's words. "Erm… Yukimura, there's no reason for you to lie like that just for my sake or to get back at Kyo…" she murmured, slightly embarrassed.

Blue eyes blinked slowly. "Lie?" He inquired slowly before beaming. "Now why would I lie about such a serious matter like this?" He gave a small chuckle.

Kyo resisted the urge to snarl. "Are you joking?" he demanded, voice rough and—disgusted?—no, not disgusted—Yuya mentally shook her head to clear it. She didn't have to dig in deeper to his emotions. And why would she care if he was disgusted?

_He's _not_ disgusted,_ a small voice piped in at the back of her mind. Yuya promptly made it die of natural causes.

Yukimura's bright blue orbs locked with Kyo's demonic eyes unflinchingly. His beam—if possible—brightened. "Never!" His voice was warm and sounded like he was on the verge of a laugh, as he always sounded, yet there was something behind his expression…

"I see," the demonic eyed man returned, his gaze flicking over to the blonde-haired youth under question. "I never took you for a fool of such caliber."

Then he turned to leave.

"Ah—oi! Kyo!" Yuya called, swallowing the lump of uneasiness that had formed in her throat from the small—'confrontation.'

The man didn't even stop his steady pace to acknowledge her. Her anger grew. "If all you're going to do when I see you is insult me or poke jokes at me for your own amusement then _stop coming near me_!" she cried at his retreating form.

Once again he didn't reply. Once again he was ignoring. Once again she found herself frustrated at him. And once again she felt a burning, fiery hate in the pit of her stomach. She could almost feel it move inside of her, ready to strike out at the man she was coming to despise.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So… interesting people we've met, huh?" Yuya murmured to Kyoshiro, trying to make small talk as they made their way back to the apartment.

"Mm," he hummed in agreement, crooked index finger placed lightly against his lips as he looked down at the ground, mind reeling.

"I was kinda surprised that it was actually _the_ Yukimura Sanada who I was paired with and had a chance of meeting…" she continued.

"Mm," her companion hummed once more in response.

"And that Kyo guy has the same last name as you—oh, yeah, I meant to ask you. Are you related to him in any way?"

"Mm," was the hummed response.

"Kyoshiro?"

"Mm."

Was he spacing? "… Red rabbits read _Red Rover_ while relaxing and remembering ridiculous, radical rainstorms," she tried

"Mm."

"Kyoshiro…" she growled lowly, not liking the fact that she was talking to a currently mindless idiot.

"Mm."

She stopped, gave him a peeved look, and called, "Oh look! A naked teen idol!"

The reaction she got was incredible. Kyoshiro froze, whirled around to blink at her before his head madly turned left to right as he desperately sought out the afore-mentioned naked idol. "Where?" he demanded. "Where; where?!"

Yuya rolled her eyes. "Baka. There isn't one. You were _ignoring_ me, what else could I have done to get your attention?" She quickened her pace to catch up with the perverted teen that she was forced to call a friend.

He blinked innocently at her. "I wasn't ignoring you," he informed her as they left the campus.

"Then what were you doing?" she demanded sharply.

"Thinking," he replied easily.

The look she gave him suggested some sort or deranged horns had sprouted from his ears. "Thinking?" she murmured, eyes widened slightly. "_You?_"

Kyoshiro had the right to look indignant. "I do have such moments, you know. I also need to think about some things."

"Uh… yeah, but… you were seriously thinking? Whatever about, might I ask?"

Kyoshiro's blue eyes darted away. "Er—nothing really, I suppose. Just… what… Yukimura goes through. Yeah, what he must go through every day."

Yuya gave him another look. "Eh?" _What Yukimura goes through? _

"Well… yeah?" At her look that clearly told him to elaborate, he continued, "Well, just think about it. Every day he has to avoid paparazzi and adoring, stalker-ish fans… He also has to deal with the stress of being such a successful idol. All while attending college, to top it off."

Yuya blinked at him, thoroughly surprised. "Holy hell, Kyoshiro. That's one of the stupidest things to think about _ever_, but considering it's you, I'd also have to sadly say that it's the most intelligent thing you've ever thought about—_ever_."

"Oh… er… Is that an insult? Or a compliment? I very honestly can't tell."

There was a pause as Yuya mulled it over before she shrugged. "I don't know either. Can't we just leave it as the most mature thing you've ever thought about?"

A grin spread across Kyoshiro's face. "Sure. Let's not complicate things that are simple enough for you to understand."

Yuya shot him a withering glare. "Shut it."

They were laughing, poking, and shoving each other playfully as they entered their apartment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Kyoshiro sighed as he picked up his cell phone, resting his forehead against the cool wood of his door. He browsed through his address book before pressing the enter button and putting the phone up to his ear. It rang three-and-a-half times before someone picked up.

"Oo, it is a surprise to receive a call from you so soon."

Kyoshiro tossed his eyes towards the ceiling in slight annoyance. "Yukimura, I think you have an answer."

"Answer?" he echoed, tone laden with slight curiosity and amusement.

"About the whole… Yuya and Kyo relationship thing," he elaborated. "You were wondering if maybe they were… made for each other or something; if it was possible to hook them up."

"Ah, yes! I remember now! Seeing as your calling me, I suppose you have some sort of thought on the topic."

Kyoshiro slowly closed his eyes and exhaled before answering. "…Yes. When you showed interest in Yuya, Kyo reacted."

"Yes, he seemed very disgruntled and maybe even a little disgusted at the thought—"

Kyoshiro interrupted him with a short bark of humorless laughter. "If he was disgruntled by it, he wouldn't have made a comment about it. He would have walked away and not have snapped at you or insulted you."

"Hmm," he heard the pop star hum as he thought that over. "So, basically what you're implying is that—"

"Yes. Kyo is jealous, whether or not he wants to admit it."

Yukimura gave a chiggle. "This is getting _very_ interesting; I'd call this whole thing fun, even… Oh, yes. Kyo may have an interest in her, but what about Miss Yuya herself?"

Kyoshiro gave a long-suffering sigh. "She's a little harder to read, I'll admit. But… Kyo is bugging her a little more than she's letting on."

"And what does that have to do with anything?" the idol inquired. "She seems to be 'bugged' by everyone."

Kyoshiro shook his head despite the fact that Yukimura wouldn't be able to see him. "No. She's just kinda… permanently PMS-ing. From what I can tell, Kyo bugs her more than anyone else does. And that means that she's thinking about him a little more than she deems comfortable."

There was a hum as the other thought about that. "That's interesting indeed," the other admitted, sounding like his thoughts had strayed off a little. "She certainly _can_ be cute, can't she? And she could possibly be the one to steal Kyo's heart." He let out another one of his feminine laughs.

Ah. That reminded Kyoshiro. He had a small matter he had to settle with the pop star. "Yukimura?" he began.

"Hmm?"

"It's bad enough that that damn _Kyo_ has stolen her interest." Kyoshiro's tone was sharp and dark. He sounded like he was laying down a law.

"Yes?" Yukimura prodded.

"So keep your hands off."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) Yeah, I know it's _college_, and college doesn't have bells to start class (like high school does), but… it's my college, so back off! It's special!

(2) Yukimura has a very unique sort of accent (in the English version of the anime more so than the Japanese) that is simply adorable in my opinion. If you've once again no idea what I'm talking about, I shun you. (Unless you're not English, then you're forgiven.)

_-exhausted sigh- I've been working on so many projects in school, it's no longer funny. Please appreciate this update. –another sigh- And if it was incredibly boring (as I know it was) please just wait until next time. For in the next installment, things get InTeReStInG with all the evil plots for Kyo and Yuya. –maniacal laughter-_

**Reignashii**, torchedheaven. (You changed your name… O.o), **peckforever,** Kaeru-sama, **Paradigm08,** bartender (anonymous), **twilight09**, YuyaSama, **Addy (anonymous),** ipperne, **Daihanseed,** Maya-chan (anonymous), **aichioluv,** Rad Enka

_Ankies, ankies, ankies for you ever-so-kind words. Truthfully, this doesn't deserve it… -sad- I'm trying to improve, but alas, I still suck at writing. Er… Give me some more feedback…:)_

_Ciao!_

_P.S. I apologize if this has errors--I had to edit it myself because my beloved beta, torchedheaven.(previously known as Alex E. Tracer), has no internet access and thus, is unable to edit for me. I checked this thoroughly several times, so I _think_ there are none… But I'm not perfect, so there may be some still there. ;-; Also, sorry for the wait._


	6. A Little Heart to Heart

_**Author's Notes: **__O-em-gee! I can officially say it took me a year to write this chapter because IT'S 2008, Y'ALL!! Weeeeeee! (-coughcough- Sorry about my once-again loooooooong delay on posting… -sigh- Two months? It isn't usually that long…)_

_**Disclaimer: **__-shifty eyes- If I have to get a loan every time I crave a Tootsie Pop, do you _think_ I own it? _

_**Title: **__Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 6: **__A Little Heart to Heart_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Yuya _had_ been having a _very nice night—_'had been' being important in that sentence. She and Kyoshiro had been acting like they used to when they were children—carefree, dropping jokes, both crude and teasing. They were best friends and had the time to rediscover that fact.

That is, until Yuya's cell rang and she told Kyoshiro to turn down the volume of his stereo so she could actually hear. Without even bothering to check the caller ID—mistake number one—she flipped open her phone and in her bright and cheery-from-laughter voice had answered—mistake number two.

"Yuya speaking, can I help ya?"

There was a pause and for a moment she wondered if the person had hung up. She was starting to debate hanging up when a crisp and slightly cold voice finally answered. "I see you're still as immature as you were before." The disdain in the tone was obvious.

She stiffened momentarily. She didn't have to think twice to know just who it was that she was talking to. "Well, not all of us can walk around with a stick up our ass. Some of us do take the time to laugh, you know." All the cheeriness was sapped out and there was slight sarcasm in her tone.

The man didn't miss a beat. "You will not speak to your father in such a manner." His voice was harsh.

Yuya sighed gently, allowing her eyes to drift shut. She was getting tired of being angry all the time. And of course, when she was in a wonderfully happy and positive mood, _he_ had to call and shoot down any sense of optimism she had gathered. "What do you want?" she finally asked, sounding slightly exasperated.

"I just wanted to call to make sure my daughter was doing well. I assume both you and Kyoshiro are settled in?"

Yuya swallowed the lump of raw anger, trying to repress the frustration from her tone. "Why do you insist on butting into my affairs all the time? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I _do not_ need for you to go and assign me a… _babysitter_!"

"Au contraire. And he's not a babysitter. I know you are old enough to take care of yourself."

"Oh, thank you," she sarcastically snipped.

Her father didn't reply for a long while. Finally, he gave an exhausted, exasperated sigh. "You do know I just want what's best for you, right?"

Yuya scowled slightly, not liking the fact that he was making her feel guilty about snapping at him. "Our opinions on what's 'best for me' seem to differ," she pointed out patiently.

There was another pause before her father spoke again. "Yuya, I swear to you, I'm trying. So I've decided that I'll…" He drifted off and the blonde frowned at that.

"Yes?" she prompted, slightly curious and yet suspicious at the same time. _I'm not doing anything stupid, like moving back home, if that's what he's thinking,_ she told herself as she waited for her father's answer.

"How about this: I'll… leave you alone—mostly—until your holiday break. At that time, you come home to visit and I'll leave you alone again until you're let out for the summer. Does that sound good to you?"

Yuya deeply mulled that over. If his words were to be taken literally, she would be mostly free of her overbearing father… But she knew there was more to it than that.

"And…?" She drifted off, signaling to her father to continue.

"And what?" he asked sincerely.

The sincerity merely confirmed Yuya's suspicions. "And what else?"

He father paused a moment before speaking, his words slow and deliberate. "And you let Nozomu check up on you every now and then."

Yuya stiffened at her brother's name. "Why are you involving him?" she asked. Her voice was just as tense as she felt. "He's really, really busy lately. I don't think—"

"If you agree, I'll allow you the privilege of having your car back," he coolly interrupted.

And just like that, Yuya found herself being bribed into capitulation.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Slivers of moonlight played with the shadows in her room and danced on her wall. Yuya opened her eyes once again and sighed. She pulled an arm out from beneath her quilt and the back of her hand fell against her forehead in a semi-soothing gesture. No matter how she tried, Yuya couldn't coax herself to relax into a peaceful sleep. She tried countless methods, from counting sheep left, right, forwards, backwards, up, down, and all around; she tried closing her eyes and thinking of nothing, possibly boring herself to sleep; she had even tried humming, gently singing, mental math equations—everything!

Nothing worked.

Restlessly, Yuya slipped out from under her covers and padded to her closet. She pulled out a random jacket and slipped it on over her flannel pajama shirt. Deciding the pants she currently wore were decent enough, she quietly left her room. Once she reached the front door, she slipped on a pair of shoes and listened for a second to make sure Kyoshiro was still sound asleep. She heard faint snoring so she left the apartment.

Once she had exited the entire building and she was walking on the sidewalk, she broke out into a jog. She wasn't sure where she was going, nor did she currently care. She pretty much knew the area around her college and apartment, so when she exhausted herself, she could find her way back home and then hopefully be able to sleep. Yuya knew it wasn't exactly wise to be out so late at night—or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it—but she had a cell phone in her pocket if an emergency arose. Besides, it was too late for creepy weirdoes to still be awake and too early for regular passerby to be up yet. At least, that's what she told herself.

The warm summer air felt nice against her cheeks as she moved and she enjoyed how the breeze played with her hair. As such, she ran for a long while. She didn't bother to check the time to see how long she had been out, but she knew an hour—at least—had passed by the time she stopped to catch her breath. Yuya calmed her slightly irregular breathing when she looked around to see where she was.

She repressed a shudder.

While she had been in dirtier places, there was something about the small area that seemed—off, simply put. Yuya wasn't sure what it was supposed to be—a hangout?—but she stood on the pavement of a small, never-used parking lot that was over-run with odds and ends like boxes full of the gods know what. The building—shack?—was older and slightly overrun with vines and the like. The small area seemed darker than the rest of town for some reason.

"Cue the ominous music," Yuya murmured to herself. While she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, a small cramp in her thigh was telling her otherwise. She gave a small sigh of defeat before looking around for something to sit on. There was an overturned bench at the one corner of the parking lot—and it was a decent distance from the shack-thing, Yuya noted with relief—so she went over to it and flipped it with some slight effort.

She eyed the contraption for a few seconds; unsure whether or not to trust the old, decaying wood. A throb in the back of her thigh acted as her assurance and eventually she flopped onto the bench with a breath of relief. As her fingers worked the knotted muscle, her eyes scanned the premises, flicking back and forth for any sign of life. Her free hand lingered above the pocket that held her cell phone, poised and ready to whip it out in a second to call for some back up.

Suddenly, with no warning, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

In that second, many thoughts flooded Yuya's mind. First and foremost was: _Oh, my gods! A rapist is going to rape me!_ The second one was: _I'm not even going to finish college or ever have a first boyfriend!_ The last though being: _I don't want to give him my kidneys!_

Impulsively, she flinched and bent over to protect her stomach, threw her hands over her head, and gave a long, shrill screech despite her earlier devised plan to keep her cool and hastily make a call to the police if anything happened. She felt the fingers slip off her shoulder as her scream faded and for a second though that whoever it had been had left.

"I'm happy to see you, as well."

It took a second for the words to sink in. Yuya sighed in relief from beneath the safety of her arms. The voice was _definitely_ familiar and Yuya would've had to be a fool to forget it. Almost immediately after everything clicked in her brain, her cheeks flustered as embarrassment filled her for acting so foolishly. Peeking up from her makeshift threshold, she blinked dumbly.

"W- What—just what are you doing here!?" She asked, eyes narrowing as she sat up and turned.

"Dogface," Kyo rumbled lowly, his blood red eyes also narrowing. "I should be asking you that."

Yuya huffed, crossing her arms indignantly. "Well, _I'm_ here for some fresh air. I went for a walk, thank you very much. And you?"

A slender raven eyebrow rose in a perfect arch. His gaze never wavered, but something flickered through his eyes for a second. "Do you make it a habit to hang around shady places like this one?" he coolly asked.

"No," Yuya grumbled, feeling slightly like a child being chastised by a parent. "But I was tired. And this was the only bench in the area. And I had a cramp in my leg to top it all off." She mentally tried to convince herself she was _not_ making excuses and that she did _not_ sound like she was whining.

"You had a cramp?" Kyo repeated, his cold voice holding a slight hint of humor—so slight, in fact, Yuya wasn't sure if it was there.

She crossed her arms again. "Yes. Have a problem with that?"

"No, not at all. Just make sure that when you are either kidnapped or murdered to remember that it was your own stupidity that got you into it—dogface." He added the insult as an afterthought more for a reaction than anything else.

Yuya did her best to ignore the_ nickname_ as she snorted. Deciding she was done with the conversation, she turned around and settled into the aging wood of the bench. She winced when the cramp in her thigh came back and her fingers moved to massage the area tenderly. Even though she would never admit as much out loud, having Kyo as company calmed her slightly. At least now she knew she didn't have to worry about being kidnapped.

_Not that I couldn't have protected myself_, she hastily thought. _But it would be a bother to have some pedophile stalking after me or anything like… _She drifted off, her eyes fluttering to half-mast as she let out a contented hum. The fingers working her aching muscles were definitely skilled. Yuya idly wondered when she had gained so much experience in giving massages. Her eyes drifted to her hand and she found it resting peacefully next to her leg, palm up.

Slightly confused, she turned her head to gaze at her other hand, which was sitting in her lap innocently, no where near her legs. Yuya gaped at her lap for a few seconds before her gaze went back to her other hand before returning to her lap once again. Her eyes widened.

_Hold the phone!_ Her emerald eyes snapped to her leg and, indeed, it was not her fingers that were working the muscles beneath her skin. And there was only one other person currently occupying the area besides herself.

"Kyo?" she breathed, her tone both a warning and a question. The thought of the cold bastard actually doing something that could be called sentimental like giving a massage seemed like a joke to her. But…

Her breath nearly caught in her throat as she watched—fascinated and mesmerized—as his fingers moved in soothing strokes, ghosting the skin in some areas and pressing more firmly in others. A small part of her brain were telling her that the cramp was long gone and that she should notify Kyo of such and demand he stop. It was also telling her that she should scold the man for thinking she would be fine with him touching her like he was. But another part of her—the larger part—was so entranced in watching that she could do nothing but sit there and let him continue.

Several moments passed like that. It was when Kyo's hands moved away from her leg that she finally snapped out of it. She cleared her throat before trying her voice. "Um, yeah—thanks," she managed.

"Tch. Does it feel better now?" Kyo asked in reply, a cocky smirk spreading across his face.

Yuya resisted the urge to deck him as any and all sentimental feelings were zapped out of the atmosphere. "Bastard." she growled, readjusting her position and letting her legs fall off the bench to come into contact with the ground. She had to admit, though, her leg felt incredible right about then.

"So, what inspired you enough to cause you to make such an early morning excursion?" Kyo murmured to her, flicking his crimson eyes in her direction.

Yuya wrinkled her nose. "I was just restless and couldn't fall asleep. I figured if I exhausted myself, I could go back and go to bed, ya know?"

"Hmm," he hummed before continuing, "Anything in particular bothering you, then?"

She cast him a curious glance, not entirely sure why he was suddenly so interested. "Um, well kinda, I guess."

"You guess?" he drawled, giving her a look that suggested her IQ was one that could be compared to that of a gnat.

"Well—yeah," she grumbled slightly defensively. "I got a phone call from my father and I guess it just… upset me, is all."

Kyo didn't reply for a few seconds, but instead shifted his weight on the bench and swung his arm up so that it was resting along the top. "Really? Seeing as it's you we're talking about, I don't see what he could've said that _wouldn't_ have upset you. You're always angry."

Yuya grumbled grumpily. How true that was. While she wasn't what someone would call an emo or a punk, she did have quite a temper. Normally, she was a cheerful, happy-go-lucky girl. But piss her off, and you were dealing with a demon from hell. While Yuya didn't _try_ to come off as such, when provoked, she reacted before thinking things through. A character flaw, indeed.

"While you do a fine job of working my nerves, lately anything and everything my father says seems to have one purpose—to piss me off. I'm pretty sure he doesn't… _try_ to do it, but he's just so protective and overbearing that it's suffocating. Really, it is. He's trying to force himself into my new life somehow. He wants to be a part of it. He tries to be the controller of everything—to dictate this life away from him that I'm making…" She drifted off with a sigh.

"It's normal for a parent to feel like that," Kyo informed her dismissively. "He'll learn soon enough."

Goosebumps flooded down Yuya's spine as a small burst of air flowed through her jacket. While the air wasn't exactly cold since it was late summer, it was chilly enough to want something more than a short-sleeved jacket. "What are you going to college for?" Yuya asked softly after a short pause.

Kyo gave a slight shrug. He was looking straight ahead at nothing. "What everyone else is here to do—to get a degree."

Yuya frowned at him, not at all impressed with his answer. "That's not what I meant and you know it. What I _meant_ was, what do you plan on doing once you graduate? Anything in particular?"

"I'm finishing college because it's tradition," Kyo answered simply, offering no further clarification.

"Tradition as in… family tradition? Or tradition as in a society-expected tradition?" Yuya inquired, genuinely curious.

Kyo's eyes whipped in her direction and she was slightly taken aback at the intensity behind them. "Tradition as in it's expected of all of us if we're to be respected," he growled.

Yuya winced at his tone. She wanted to change the topic, but she also wanted to pry further into the matter at hand. Deciding to risk it, she murmured, "Is that the only reason? Just because of tradition? You're not doing this for any personal gain at all?"

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he let out a small sigh and turned his attention back to staring out at the space in front of him. "I never thought about it," he slowly admitted finally. "But it doesn't really matter, now does it?"

The blonde woman shook her head. "Nah, I suppose it doesn't." And she meant that.

Yuya gave a small hum of contentment before leaning up against the bench and allowing her eyes to slip to half-mast. She wasn't sure what Kyo did, but she heard a light shuffling noise as he adjusted his position, as well. Many minutes passed by peacefully and Yuya felt her muscles relaxing as fatigue overran her mind and body.

A small, sudden gust of wind penetrated her thin, sleeveless jacket and she shivered violently as the wind forced away all her body heat. She sat up straight and wrapped her arms around herself in a small attempt to bring warmth back.

"Only a dogface like you could possibly get cold on a warm summer night," she heard Kyo gruffly say. Yuya turned to face him so she could properly retort when something whapped her in the face. She peeled it off and examined it, scowling, only to blink in surprise.

"Eh?" was her intelligent reply as she eyed the hoodie suspiciously. Her green eyes shifted up to take in the thin, black sleeveless shirt Kyo was wearing. "So then won't you be cold?"

He gave her a dry look. "I already told you Dogface, you're the only one that can get cold on such a warm summer night. I'm not so pathetic that I freeze so easily."

Yuya scowled at him. "Well, _excuse_ me for giving into human weakness," she snapped before turning her attention back to the dark hoodie and frowning. "It looks emo," she commented dryly.

Kyo's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry it doesn't fit your taste. But contrary to belief, I don't wear pink."

Yuya stuck out her tongue before slipping the sweater over her jacket. She snuggled into the warmth before a thought struck her. Unable to resist the urge to tease the apathetic man, Yuya grinned almost smugly and said, "You just can't resist seeing a beautiful woman in distress, isn't that it? If I had known you had thought so highly of me—"

"Give the damn thing back." His eyes narrowed even more as he glared at her and stretched out a hand expectantly.

Yuya snorted. "Hell, no. You gave it to me so I'm using it. Deal."

His outstretched hand fell down on her shoulder and started tugging on the material. "Give it back, dammit!"

Yuya yelped before her eyes narrowed and she defiantly—and stupidly—declared, "No."

An all-out war formed.

Kyo pinned her lower half to the bench with his legs while simultaneously trying to hold down both of her wrists and trying to pull of the hoodie. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough pairs of hands to do everything and Yuya was doing everything in her power to make the task impossible. She was wriggling and trying to kick her legs upward—hoping to inflict damage on the infuriating bastard—and continually fighting his grip on her arms. She could only imagine what any passerby would think if by chance the wrestling couple was spotted.

"You gave it to me to borrow," She grunted out. "And a man shouldn't go back on his word."

The phrase made Kyo pause for barely a millisecond, but it was enough to catch him off-guard. Yuya took the opportunity and shoved him. However, since his grasp on her wrists was incredibly firm—yet somehow also gentle—she went down with him. His back met with the ground and Yuya landed on his chest. Every fiber of her being told her to jump up, but with her cheek resting against his shirt, she could faintly feel a light thumping of his heartbeat. Almost instinctively, she relaxed against him and fatigue once again caught up with her, making her muscles heavier than they were a few seconds ago.

"Dogface." a low voice rumbled in her ear.

"Mm?" she hummed in response, her eyes fluttering slightly. She didn't have the energy at that moment to protest the nickname.

"You're laying on me," he informed her casually.

"Feel lucky, then," she mumbled in response.

"Dogface," Kyo growled, almost in warning. "Get up and at least get on the bench."

Yuya mumbled something incoherently before grumbling, "Make me."

_Who cares if he's as social as a PMS-ing dragon? _she thought to herself idly. _He's comfortable and I'm tired._

"This is the last time I'll be telling you. Get up." His tone left no room for argument, but instead of bothering to reply, Yuya merely nuzzled into the material of his shirt. "Don't say I didn't warn you," He whispered in her ear before his arms slipped beneath her and suddenly, she felt cold air on her face. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes only to find herself being suspended in the air.

"B- Bastard," she stammered, pulling herself closer to Kyo so she wouldn't fall. "What are you doing?" She hissed. "Put me down this instant! Did you hear me? Down—put me _down_!" She wriggled around for a good measure, trying to break free of his grasp. When he didn't reply but opted to merely smirk at her, she pushed against his chest in another futile attempt at making him let go. "Hey, you _jerk_, just what do you think you're doing, anyway—?"

"Are you sure you want down?" Kyo carelessly asked, cocking a slender, ebony eyebrow as he interrupted her rant.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Yuya retorted, managing to stifle a yawn. "Now put me—"

Quite suddenly, his arms weren't supporting her anymore. In fact, quite suddenly, he dropped her. It took a second for gravity to kick in and she was sent crashing down painfully to the earth. Instead of her skin connecting with the asphalt or ground, however, her bottom slammed into the decaying wood of the old bench. She winced as a sharp pain shot up her spin.

"Jerk!" she immediately chastised, leaning forward to stretch the muscles in the small of her back as she rubbed the area. "That was my _spine_ and that freaking _hurt_!"

Her eyes narrowed when the ever-so-annoying man shoved her over and took a seat next to her. "Shut up, Dogface. The fall was not more than two feet. You're overreacting again."

Yuya 'hmph'ed indignantly. "It doesn't matter, it still—" She cut herself off when Kyo turned to look at her.

"Just shut up," He rumbled and for some reason, Yuya found it hard to not listen. Anymore protests and retorts she might have been planning to unleash on him died on her tongue then.

Instead, she softly mumbled, "I'm still tired, though."

Kyo shot her a dark look. "Then head home. It's not too far from here, I believe. And I'm going to leave you here if you fall asleep, just so you know."

"Oh, geez thanks," she mumbled as she placed her hand on the back of the bench and rested her temple on the back of it. "I'll head home… inna minute." Her words slurred together in her nearly sleep-induced state.

Kyo snorted. "Before or after you sleep the night away?"

"I'm not gonna fall asleep," she protested. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes…"

"So, do you plan on sleep-walking home, then?" came the snide comment from Kyo.

"No," she mumbled harshly. "I'll get up in a minute, I swear." Her statement would have been more impressive if she hadn't broken out into a jaw-splitting yawn afterwards.

"Dogface, I think you should get up now and head home. It's nearing five in the morning. You're going to be too tired to do anything if you don't head out now."

"Mm," she hummed, not really hearing what he was saying.

Kyo gave a small, low growl before reaching over and lightly pushing her. Normally, the gesture wouldn't have had any effect, but due to the fact that she was almost dead on her feet—figuratively, of course—she easily lost any sense of equilibrium she may have had and struggled to keep from falling over.

"W- What the hell?" she whined. "Why can't I just _sleep,_ darn it?"

"Not that I care, but I'm leaving and you'll be left here all alone for the night unless you also go on home," he commented apathetically.

Yuya squinted as Kyo blurred into two figures, fatigue mussing up her brain. (1)

"Are you even listening to me?" he asked lowly, his rumbling voice echoing in her ears and acting as a makeshift lullaby of a sort.

More out of reflex than anything else, Kyo let his arms float out so Yuya could land in them as she fully lost consciousness, a small smile playing with her lips. Annoyed, he let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a growl.

"You're more trouble than you're worth."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) Meh. It's a common sign of fatigue. I didn't make it up or anything like that. It happened to me a few weeks ago when insomnia was ruling my life and I didn't sleep a few nights.

**Reignashii,** JapanLi (anonymous), **peckforever, **battenburg, **Paradigm08,** twilight09, **sckry,** Behan, **Silent Sinner Abella,** YuyaSama, **Addy (anonymous),** amazingsensation _(Holy crap… oh, wow… your review really inspired me to get off my bum and write this chapter—thank you ever-so-much!)_, **torchedheaven.,** Chaotic Angel7

_Ankies to everyone who reviewed. You really made my day!_

_-sigh- I am so sorry about all the crappy corn in this chapter. Really, I am. But no worries. Next chapter, Okuni comes in (urg, I don't know if I can write her…), and all the corn and crap goes bye-bye for a while (-cough-hopefully forever-cough-). Oh, sorry there was no behind-the-scenes plotting from Yukimura and Kyoshiro—I think that comes in next chap, so no worries. Oh, and thank you for understanding my stress and all, I love you for that! Your support really helps me to write._

_Ug. How bad was this chapter, anyway? –winces-_

_Ciao!_

_P.S. -bows to the amazing torchedheaven-san- Everyone give a hand to my amazing beta! Her amazing skills once again saved my story!_


	7. By Any Other Name

_**Author's Notes: **__Almost a year since my last update? YOU LIE! –twiddles fingers- I hope you like this chapter… it seems almost like a filler to me even though I know it's not. I'm setting the stage for—  
Oh, now why would I ruin the surprise? :D_

_And as a FOREWARNING: this chapter, as my beta said, isn't slow, per se, it's just that nothing really happens. I'm building up the environment. NEXT chapter and the ones that follow are where the actions starts to come in! _

_**Disclaimer: **__I think I've done everything but dance around a fire with the traditional war-paint getup singing about my crap-tastic life to prove to you that I kinda have no ownership in this… What? You WANT me to dance around a fire with the traditional war-paint getup and sing about my crap-tastic life? Well! Why didn't you say so! –starts smashing the berries for the paint-_

_**Title:**__ Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 7: **__By Any Other Name_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The colors were brilliant; the light was blinding. So much so that Yuya immediately slammed her eyes shut after opening them. The bright rays of the sun peeked in from the cracks of the curtains, leaving streaks across the room, one of which lay directly over her right eye.

She let her breath out in a whoosh through her nose in slight irritation at being so rudely awakened and shifted so that the sun wasn't beating on her eyes any longer. Her sleep-hazed mind relaxed and she was dangling precariously on the edge between dozing and actually sleeping when voices seeped into her consciousness. It took a while for her to come up fully from the deep pools of sleep and even longer for her to make sense of what was being said. By the time her mind was functional and all remnants of her exhaustion was gone, the two people—a man and a woman—had finished talking and there was a shuffling sound and the clicking of a door as it was opened and then shut again.

Yuya's green eyes fluttered open and she squinted in the bright room, trying as hard as she could to keep as much sunlight as possible out of her irritable irises.

"So you're awake," the woman she heard talking earlier murmured from across the room. The woman had long, dark, ebony-black hair and dark eyes as well. She was definitely busty, that much was for sure, with a body that was generously curved. And she was tall. Yuya guessed that if they stood face-to-face, the woman would be several inches taller—it sucked being short. "You sure do cause a lot of trouble, don't you?" the woman continued, her melodious voice prickly with an edge of reproach.

A flame of indignation flickered to life and Yuya opened her mouth to retort. However, she found that instead of a smart comment, a short, barking cough erupted from her.

The woman smirked at her with lips that were perfectly covered with rose-red lipstick. "Are you stupid or something? Kyo told me that you managed to get cold on a beautiful, warm summer night. And you even managed to catch some sort of sniffle."

"Who are you?" Yuya finally managed to ask after clearing her throat. Her voice was much more timid than she would've liked it to be.

"Okuni," she offered. When Yuya raised an eyebrow at the lack of a second name, she continued, "Just Okuni for you."

Yuya gave a small shrug. "Fine then, Just Okuni. Mind telling me where I am?"

Okuni's smirk fell and her eyes grew cold. "Sure I can tell you," she replied icily. "You're in my apartment, in Kyo's bedroom, lying in Kyo's bed." She voice was sharp by the time she was done.

"Eh?" Yuya jerked, taken aback. _Since when did that bastard care enough about me to allow me to sleep in his bed?_ she mused, not sure whether or not to be disturbed or amused at the thought.

Okuni's top lip curled in disgust. "I guess you really are slow or something. In case you couldn't follow me before, you're laying in Kyo's bed."

Her dark green eyes blinked before slowly shifting around the room, curiously taking everything in. The room was a mixture of red and black—but mostly red. The walls were painted black, the carpets were black, but the quilt on his bed was a rich crimson-red. There were a few posters adorning the walls, most of them a year or more old. She found that all of them were the sort of musical band that her father would've wrinkled his nose at in disgust while mumbling something like: "Yuya, dear, if I _ever_ see you listening to any of that junk…"

Her father had always drifted off while making threats. He never finished them—and he didn't need to, not really; she would've rather fallen over dead before disobeying her father when she was younger. So she had never found out what he would've done to her if she had gone against his wishes. By the time she started rebelling against his authority, she was getting ready to move out and start college.

"So you've said," Yuya finally replied to Okuni. "I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, though."

Okuni scowled openly at her. "Just what are you doing here?" she demanded, tone clipped.

"What are _you_ doing here, if I might ask?" Yuya retaliated. "You said this was Kyo's room, not yours, so technically you have no right to be in here."

"Well, aren't you just perceptive?" The words were not a compliment. It took a moment for Yuya to pick up the smug tone and she tilted her head curiously. "I'm not sure if it's any of your concern, or whether or not you'd care," Okuni continued, giving Yuya a look that suggested she really did want Yuya to be bothered by what she was going to say. "I'm free to go through all of Kyo's things. We're in love."

Yuya gritted her teeth in annoyance. "I see then. That would explain it then, I suppose." Something searing hot licked at the back of her mind and the sensation left her feeling incredibly frustrated. "So that would make you his…" She drifted off for a moment to take a breath to calm herself. Her mounting frustration was making it hard to concentrate. "… girlfriend?" she finally managed.

"Would there be a problem if I said that presumption was correct?" Okuni asked lightly.

Something in the back of her mind practically screamed at Yuya to reply that yes, of course there was a problem with that, but she wasn't entirely sure why she had the urge to say anything like that. So she said the opposite. "Not really."

Okuni leaned forward slightly, her impeccable, nearly lazy grin still curving her lips. Her dark eyes stared into Yuya's green, gauging the blonde woman for some sort of reaction. Yuya, almost self-consciously, gripped the dark quilt that pooled around her hips as she waited for Okuni to break the silence.

Moments went by and Okuni did nothing to ease the awkward atmosphere. Yuya pursed her lips before her tolerance snapped.

"What's your problem?" she demanded, slightly put-off when her voice cracked. "You've done nothing but act rude to me from the moment you opened your mouth. What's your problem—?"

"He's not interested in little girls like you," Okuni suddenly cut in. Her words were cold and her lacksidasical expression was replaced with smooth indifference. "I think it's only fair to warn you."

"Warn… me…" Yuya slowly mouthed to herself before shaking her head, eyes wide. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" the brunette woman challenged. "I've known Kyo much longer than you have, I assure you. He never takes the slightest interest in girls like you. A poor little thing like you has a fragile heart—easily broken. I would hate to—"

"I don't know what you're implying," Yuya replied defensively, "but what I meant when I said you were wrong was that I don't have any interest in him—at _all_." Almost as an afterthought, she tacked on, "He's an inconsiderate asshole."

"Is that what you really think?"

"Yes," she said firmly.

Okuni crossed her arms across her chest and gave Yuya a look that suggested she didn't believe it one bit. "You don't mean that. You may _think_ you do, but that's what everyone says when they meet Kyo. But he's so _kind_ and _considerate_ when you get to know him—"

"I don't care about any of that 'you have to get to know him' bullshit," Yuya interjected rudely. "I hear it all the time. And I. Don't. Care. I don't like him at all, I can swear to you. He's an inconsiderate bastard with no respect for women and that's all there is to it."

"You're such a blonde fool!" Okuni suddenly hissed, her beautifully dark eyes narrowing to a hair's width. "You know what? I hope you _do_ fall for him! And I hope he breaks your heart just like he—"

"Okuni."

Her name was softly spoken—so much so that Yuya didn't hear it at first—but the woman froze immediately. Her expression that had twisted up in her anger relaxed. Her shoulders also relaxed and slumped slightly. It was almost like she was a mechanical doll that had had its switch turned off; the change in her was so dramatic.

"Kyo," Okuni murmured in response, the unspoken 'what do you want?' in her somewhat reverent tone.

"Knock it off," Kyo ordered. "If you're going to stand there and bitch, then preach to someone who's actually going to listen."

Okuni's eyes wandered back over to Yuya. "Of course, I've no idea what I was thinking, talking to _her_ about things like that."

Yuya flicked a lock of her golden hair from her eyes and gave a contemptuous sneer towards Okuni. Yuya would never, ever, _ever_ in her life be so compliant towards another male, or towards another human being, for that matter. Kyoshiro had always called her unruly, and he definitely caught her essence within that one word.

Although she was slightly taken aback that Kyo was almost _defending_ her from the ire of Okuni. With how much respect he had shown her before—ahem, _none_—she was surprised hell hadn't frozen over already. She was so ready to walk up to the man and tug on his ear, just to make sure that Kyo wasn't some sort of hallucination of hers, when he continued:

"Now leave, would you"—despite the wording of his sentence, it was not a question, and Okuni knew that full well—"I have to talk to her."

Yuya bit her tongue to keep from yelling at him that it was rude to talk about someone like they weren't there but decided to save her breath. He was just going to give a smart-ass or insulting response to anything she said.

Okuni pouted, fluttering her long lashes. "It's not like you have to tell her anything that has to be kept secret from me," she purred innocently. "So I don't really have to go anywhere—"

"Leave, Okuni." Kyo's tone of voice was law, and like a kicked puppy, the voluptuous woman shot a last look of disdain in Yuya's direction before leaving, figuratively limping from the poor beating her ego had undergone.

Yuya had no problem speaking her mind. "I don't like her."

"I've yet to find someone who does," Kyo rumbled in consensus, which made Yuya freeze comically.

"Did you just—I mean, did we just _agree_ on something?" Her deep green eyes were wide with wonder. "I think that's a first…"

The edge of Kyo's mouth twitched downward. "I'm glad you have enough maturity to take it like an adult," he commented dryly.

Yuya scowled- an expression that she seemed to permanently adorn whenever she was around Kyo. "I'm just _sayin'_," she grumbled. "We never get along, so it came as a shock is all. Geez."

He absentmindedly flicked several locks of hair from his eyes in mild annoyance. "I have class in twenty minutes," He informed her suddenly. "Not to be rude—well, yeah, to be rude—get the hell out of my room. And my home. And my life."

Yuya's scowl deepened. "_See_? My point exactly—you're a bastard! What time is it, anyway?"

"Just after eight-thirty."

"_Bwah!_" Yuya squeaked and leapt to her feet. "No way!" Horror and disbelief colored her voice.

"Way!" Kyo replied, mocking her.

Yuya didn't bother to grace the bastard with any response, instead flitting around the room anxiously, trying to find clothes that looked familiar. She currently wore a long, simplistically pretty nightgown that no doubt Okuni had put on her sometime during the night. She had no intention on going to class in such a thing and she really didn't want to rush back to her apartment in such a thing.

She groaned in exasperation as she fell to her knees, scanning under the bed. Seeing nothing but dust bunnies, she pushed herself up onto all fours and—

Something whapped her in the face and stuck, looking almost like a curtain of some sort. Yuya blinked before peeling it off of her face and scrutinizing it.

A shirt.

Kyo's shirt, no doubt.

"Put that on," he instructed her. He shuffled through a nearby pile of clothes and tossed her a pair of loose pants—or rather, they were loose-fitting for Kyo. For Yuya, they were baggy—bordering on being able to be labeled as "cargo pants," even.

Yuya blinked down at the clothes dumbly, not sure how to react. She lifted each article and inspected it before turning a helpless look to Kyo. He stared monotonously at her and, finally, she huffed.

"Get out, then. If I'm getting changed, I'm not doing it in front of _you_." For some reason, she had to force the hostility into the words and they ended up sounding stilted and unnatural—hollow, even.

Kyo smirked and crossed his arms. "And here I was about to tell you that that was part of the deal for giving you a roof to sleep under last night." His smirk widened when Yuya's eyes narrowed. "Or so I'm sure you'd like me to say. In truth, I'd rather _not_ see what you hide under those clothes. I know for a fact that you have a body to match your dog face."

Yuya flushed with annoyance and flames of irritation licked at her green eyes. She pulled back her lips to snarl a retort, but Kyo didn't give her the time of day and left, closing the door behind him, before she got a chance. "_Bastard_," she hissed at the wall. Yuya took off her—no, _Okuni's_—nightgown and pulled on Kyo's clothes with stiff, jerking motions, all the while grumbling and snarling under her breath.

_It's no wonder such a flippin' annoying guy like him wound up with such a bitch like Okuni…_ she thought to herself as she straightened the legs of the pants.

Even as the thought filtered into her mind, a white-hot anger—almost like frustration—poked at her chest.

_Then again, it's not like _anyone_ should need to be punished like that… I'd pity anyone who has to deal with that woman, even if it's Kyo,_ she mentally grumbled, picturing Kyo and Okuni together.

And—for the strangest reason—the frustration-white-hot-anger grew a little hotter, growing more confident, the poking turning into a sharp jabbing. Yuya's lips dipped down in a contemplative frown, unsure as to the cause of the annoying sensation.

_Although I have to say, anyone else but Okuni might just be too good for him_. She nibbled at her bottom lip, and the—the _fire_ in her chest started to burn up the back of her throat. She let out an even breath, trying to calm the white-hot feeling and left the room, intent on finding Kyo and getting to class.

As she headed down the short hall, distorted voices floated down to her and she followed the sound. And before she knew it, she was in the main room of the apartment. Kyo was relaxed on the couch, laying in a nonchalant manner, with Okuni—

The red-hot heated frustration snapped and crackled before seeping from her chest up towards her head. Yuya stopped in her tracks and blinked at the sight. Okuni was on her knees in front of the couch where Kyo sat, her fingers splayed over his chest. She was leaning up to whisper something to him…

_I actually half expected her to be between his legs…_ She rolled her eyes, forcefully choking out the mental images. She bit into her cheeks and dug her nails into her palm to momentarily distract herself from the damn fire that was eating away at her insides. It was seriously starting to get annoying.

"Kyo, come on. I don't want to be late."

Her throat burned with the effort that went into keeping her not-so-nice comments about Okuni in her head. The white-hot blaze in her mind worked and manipulated the thought of just letting _one_ comment slide… just one… wouldn't hurt.

She had to physically slap a hand over her mouth. When it attracted both Kyo's and Okuni's attention, Yuya made it look like she was merely being overzealous in stifling a yawn.

"Of course we don't want _you_ to be late," Kyo finally answered, shoving Okuni away and standing up, arching his back and rolling his shoulders as he headed to the door. Green eyes locked onto dark brown and Yuya couldn't stop the smile from coming to her lips if she tried. The look on Okuni's face was just too priceless—the woman really didn't like the way Kyo had thrown her aside with no second thoughts.

As Yuya slipped on her shoes and tied up the laces, she sent Okuni one last sideways sneer and padded after Kyo, satisfied for some odd reason. The weird irritation from before was fading as quickly as it had come, and Yuya couldn't help but feel confused. Precisely what had provoked her irrational and rude behavior?

It wasn't like she was _jealous _or anything.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I'm glad to know you live!" someone chirped, coming from behind her suddenly and encircling her in a warm embrace.

Yuya stopped short, quite surprised at Yukimura's blatant show of affection. She twisted in his hold to look at him over her shoulder mutely, blinking at him. He beamed at her, doing that chiggling (1) thing again.

"You've no idea how _worried_ Kyoshiro's been." He pressed his cheek against her, a wry, wistful expression lightening his face. "He called me at two this morning, panicked that you had been kidnapped in your sleep and he hadn't been able to save you—"

"I was _not_ that worried!" a new voice proclaimed suddenly, an embarrassed flavoring sprinkling the words. "_No one_ would be able to kidnap Yuya and be sane enough to keep her. They'd eventually dump her on the street, begging for her to just walk away and leave them alone. She's strong. She'd be able to find—"

Yuya growled low in her throat and at the sound, Kyoshiro suddenly cut himself off, freezing, hoping the girl wouldn't whirl and knock him into a new week. Yukimura, however, kept her in an embrace, snuggling close, humming some inscrutable tune under his breath. "He was worried," Yukimura murmured in assurance. "He was going into panic mode. He might've even been almost ready to cry."

Yuya remained silent, feeling guilty and pathetic that she had made Kyoshiro go through so much trouble. She reached up to idly pat at Yukimura's head like one would to their adorable pet dog (she vaguely thought to herself that if the circumstances had been different, patting a pop star like she was would have been one of the weirdest things she had ever done) and as she did so, her gaze locked onto Kyo who had, miraculously, stayed nearby the entire time. Red bore into emerald and Yuya was so fixated on those bloody-crimson eyes that she didn't even notice Kyo coming towards her until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Kyo—" was the only sound of protest that was able to squeeze past her lips before he grabbed her shoulder in a smooth, liquid motion and literally _yanked_ her out of Yukimura's friendly embrace. "Owww…" she grumbled, batting his hand away from her abused appendage and rubbing at it. "What the hell was that for?" she snapped at him, not pleased in the least.

Kyo, however, offered no explanation, instead engaging a stare contest with Yukimura. More of a one-sided staring contest, really, since Yukimura just beamed at the other man gleefully. How he was always so happy and up-beat was _beyond_ Yuya at that point…

"I didn't mean any offense," the pop star chirped.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" the other—Kyoshiro—demanded sharply at the same time.

"Now, now, Kyoshiro, is that any way to talk to the person who kept Yuya safe last night from her would-be-kidnappers that you were fretting about?" Yukimura inquired. His soothing, gentle voice seemed to hypnotize the atmosphere.

Kyoshiro opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, thought better of it, and closed it only to open it once more. Finally, he let out a long, agitated sigh. He crossed his arms and glared at Kyo. "The damn bastard is _so_ annoy—thank you."

Yuya idly wondered why it was that her friend looked like he was in pain when he said that…

Kyo, however, just smirked and for some reason, Kyoshiro bristled.

"That's what you wanted, right?" Kyoshiro demanded almost calmly. For some reason the mere fact that his icy voice was so docile was scary in of itself. "A thank you?" he clarified. "Well you have it now."

Crystalline blue met bloody red and, unlike when Yuya's eyes had locked onto Kyo's, there was no momentary connection. Instead, blue sparks of hatred seemed to bounce off of between them. The thick atmosphere was almost tangible.

And then—

Kyo turned and left, as silent as he'd come. Yuya's arms crossed over her chest and she gave Kyoshiro a look, lifting an eyebrow. "What's your problem? He didn't even do anything to you that time."

Her childhood-friend looked back at her glumly but opted not to say anything, which only served to poke at her temper and merely confused her more. Kyoshiro had never really hidden anything from her. He never really had anything to hide to begin with, but that was beside the point. The two had always confided in each other and had been the other's support from what seemed to be from the beginning of time—way back when the only time they fought was when there was only one blue crayon in the box; way back when thing that girls had to worry about when it came to boys was how to get rid of their cooties…

She had never actually fought with Kyoshiro. Not once.

But now, with hurt lying heavy in her heart, frustration and irritation licking her mind, and burning tears eating away at the back of her throat, she turned and walked away from their first spat.

And, the strangest thing of all, she found herself wandering the same way Kyo had gone. Weirdest of all, though, was she followed him with the subconscious desire to be comforted.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yukimura was quiet for a long time. Even his silence seemed gentle, oddly enough. While most people had an agitated air around them as they waited for the right moment to speak or fidgeted nervously with a repressed ADHD moment, Yukimura waited with an unending amount of patience. He was even humming an inscrutable tune under his breath again.

And finally, when he spoke, there was amusement hidden behind his words. "Miss Yuya sure looked comfortable."

Kyoshiro pouted. "Comfortable _how_? She came in with that bastard, Kyo."

"Precisely!" Yukimura beamed and nodded. "She came with Kyo… wearing Kyo's clothes, too."

Kyoshiro frowned, completely confused. "Eh?" He articulated oh-so wonderfully. Yukimura, however, merely smiled roguishly, offering no further explanations. Thus, the poor confused raven scratched his head, thinking hard. He put a hand on his hip and looked up towards the lovely blue sky, like it was going to spell it out for him. He stared for a _long_, long time. A soft breeze whistled between—

"Oh, _hell no_!!" The screech left Kyoshiro's throat ragged and raw, but he couldn't have cared less at that point in time. "Are you insinuating that maybe they—together? That's _sick_ and I'm going to _kill_—"

"But it's what we wanted," Yukimura murmured, using his slim fingers to comb through a few of his lock longs and flicking them over his shoulder gracefully in a very feminine motion. "We wanted Yuya to help Kyo find some peace with himself. To do so, they need to get together—"

"Not _together_-together!" Kyoshiro exclaimed, flushing. "That's just _nasty_!"

Yukimura's smile evaporated and he looked up suddenly, slightly startling the other. "Kyoshiro," the pop star began calmly, "it's a natural part of life and a natural part of a relationship. You agreed that this is just what Kyo needs—"

"He doesn't _need_ Yuya," Kyoshiro snarled viciously. "Hell, he doesn't even _deserve_ her. He doesn't even deserve to stand on the same dirt that she stood on."

Yukimura was once again silent for a long time. His beautiful cerulean eyes were skyward for a long time, flicking back and forth as he watched the clouds change shape, morphing into majestic creatures and shapes of the imagination. He merely waited. And when Kyoshiro had finished swearing Kyo out, he spoke again:

"Have you even bothered to explain to Yuya about him?"

Kyoshiro suddenly froze mid-tantrum and started shuffling his feet, twiddling his fingers. "Um… does she _really_ need to—"

"Unless you explain _everything_ to her, then I suggest that you don't protest our original plan—any and all carnal actions included." Yukimura's attention remained on the white, fluffy cotton balls in the sky.

Kyoshiro grumbled to himself before crossing his arms and sighing, pouting. "Fiiiiine," he relented in a whine. "I'll go along with this plan, but I _swear_ the first time _anything_ seems weird, I'm calling it off. I do _not_ want Yuya getting hurt."

It was then that he remembered just how perceptive his friend was.

Once again without bothering to look at Kyoshiro, the pop star murmured, "Who are you more scared is going to get hurt; Yuya… or you?"

Kyoshiro couldn't even think up of a retort to that. Thankfully, it turned out he didn't need to. Just then, a small boy dressed in soft colors with platinum blond hair—it could even pass as a weird shade of silver—appeared from seemingly no where. The boy ran up to Yukimura, scowling.

"Sasuke."

The word flowed from the pop star's mouth and Yukimura finally looked down from his transfixion to smile charmingly at the boy. The boy's—Sasuke's—expression, in turn, melted and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

"Where's Saizo?" Yukimura inquired.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "What am I now; his babysitter? He ran off. He's around here… somewhere."

The pop star didn't react to that, instead turning toward Kyoshiro. "I think I have a plan as to how to get Kyo and Miss Yuya a little closer together."

And as Yukimura voiced his unfolding plots, his left hand idly ruffled Sasuke's sleek, silver-blond tresses affectionately. Sasuke stiffened, lightly batting at the older man's hand.

Only when Yukimura's hand had fallen by his side did Sasuke allow a content grin to play at his lips.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) For those of you who need a little reminder, "chiggle" is my own invention. It's the words _giggle _and _chuckle_ smashed into one. It's the perfect word to describe Yukimura's feminine, squeal-tastic laughs. (Sorry, ya might need to be a Yukimura girl to fully appreciate my creativity… v.v)

**Jennipher-willbedeleted**_**-**_**,** Paradigm08 (anonymous), **Chaotic Angel7****,** Reignashii, **peckforever****,** Impashence, **twilight09****,** sckry, **myxdeadxvalentine****,** Behan, **wateveruwannacallme****,** Fluffy1322 (anonymous), **akiraYuan****,** Fluffy1322 (_Did you review twice? XD)_, **Edowen****, **The Violet Muffin (_Oh, don't worry. I have a few tricks planned out… 3_)

_S'ankyuu for the lovely comments. They really helped. Seriously. Helped. Hopefully now I might be able to update this semi-oftenly now that my IY fanfic is COMPLETE! Actually, there's two things that helped me write this chapter—_

_One: pain. My friend pierced my ears and they, er, just might be a wee infected and bleeding and crap. Also, did you know toenails not only protect your squishy insides but also keep your toes warm. I didn't know that last factoid until I lost most of mine. ;-; _

_Two: wonderful music! XD I downloaded (illegally… shhhh!) some wonder-tastic songs that inspired me! :3 I recommend that if you like rock and you've heard of Li'l Wayne's "Lollipop" (whether or not you liked it) that you check out Framing Hanley's rock version of the same song. Rock over rap ANY day, my dears!_

_So, anyhoo… -winces- Please comment and tell me if I lost my touch since my last update? ;-; _

_Ciao!_


	8. Puzzle without Pieces

_**Author's Notes: **__Looooooooooong delay, I know. Sorry. School, a love life, and a job keeps me very busy. But, like always, I shall return every now and then with a new chapter. :) Happy Valentine's Day!_

_**Disclaimer: **__I had to scrape together some change to buy my lunch a few days ago. If I owned it, I think I would be able to afford at least _that,_ don't you think?_

_**Title:**__ Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 8: **__Puzzle without Pieces_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Once again Yuya couldn't help but think that pink just wasn't a normal hair color. Or purple. Or purple-pink. Or… whatever color Benitora's hair was. It looked pink in some light and a light purple or lavender at other angles. In any case, it wasn't normal. It just _wasn't_.

"Yuya-chan!" Benitora piped, jumping up from his seat, the moment class ended. "Are you hungry at all? 'Cause I was thinking that maybe we could, ya know, grab lunch together."

"Oh," was all Yuya could say for a second. The whole class period she had been struggling to pay attention and take diligent notes. Her unambiguously cruel mind refused to grace her from the hurt of her and Kyoshiro's spat, rolling the memory across her mind like a high-quality film. When she noticed Benitora waiting like an anxious puppy, she managed to conjure a piteous smile. "I'm sorry, but I already had plans for lunch…"

Benitora deflated like a balloon that had a whole in it. "With who?" he asked. " 'Cause I could totally go with, right?"

Yuya stared at him awkwardly, unsure as to how to escape. "Um—well—no, not really. See, I'm going with, um, a friend."

"Which one?" Benitora persisted.

And then, like an ethereal god materializing from a dimension beyond comprehension, a shadow fell across Yuya. Benitora looked over her shoulder at the intruder, eyes narrowing unappreciatively.

"Thing is," Kyo, the materialized ethereal god from her metaphor, rumbled, smirking, "is that she has plans with me. We're going out to get lunch together; a date of sorts if you will."

Benitora set his chin challengingly. Kyo's lips spread into a confident, almost cocky, smirk. His crimson eyes gleamed and, combined with his lacksidasical posture and almost convivial expression, he was terrifying. Beneath his dark eyes danced the promise of miserable affliction beyond understanding. Benitora read Kyo's physical language with grim understanding.

"Maybe some other time, right, Yuya?" He smiled, scratching the back of his head.

"Maybe," Yuya murmured in response, smiling back. And, for some reason that would never be able to be explained, she found herself inching back behind Kyo for some warped form of protection. Most odd of all, she never realized that she did so.

Once Benitora had sauntered off, Yuya peeked up at Kyo. He was staring off in the general direction that Benitora had gone. His brow was ever-so-gently furrowed, so unnoticeably so that any normal bystander wouldn't be able to notice it. Then he blinked, the furrow disappearing, and he glanced down at her. She froze like a deer caught in the blinding blaze of headlights, unmoving, barely breathing. But then, just as quietly as he had looked at her, Kyo's gaze drifted away from her and he started walking away.

Yuya followed him.

"What are you doing?" he called back to her. His voice was devoid of its usual hostility.

"You promised me lunch," she called back in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I did no such thing." But despite his words, he did nothing more to discourage her from following him. She trailed behind him off campus and down the road to the same place where they had eaten before—the one in which they had had their little mockingbird competition.

Yuya felt oddly detached from everything—emotions, places, reality—when she sat across from Kyo in the booth. She mechanically opened the menu and scanned the options, but wound up merely ordering the first thing her eyes fell on when the waiter, a younger man, swung by their booth to take their order.

"Alright, Dogface," Kyo oh-so eloquently began, "why are you pouting and sniveling."

Yuya gave him a weak—and slightly exasperated—glare. "I know it doesn't mean anything to _you_, but Kyoshiro is—"

"A simple-minded idiot," Kyo finished for her simply in a slow rumble, resting his chin on his palm. The action made it that his mouth was unseen, hidden, a motion that was as mysterious as he was, one minute snarling at her and then the next talking to her rationally. He really was quite the puzzle.

"He is not," she automatically defended, although oddly enough, she found her words lacking their usual vigor and venomous quality. They came out bland and defeated.

"Then what is he?" Kyo stared at her fixedly.

"He's… difficult," she offered lamely.

"Difficult?" the other mimicked. "That's all you can come up with?"

Yuya tried to bristle at his offending tone but found that it was quite difficult. "He's my best friend," she offered meekly instead. It was all she could come up with.

Kyo snorted humorously. "I've heard that one before."

"He is!" she weakly defended. "I've known him for a long time!"

"How long exactly?"

"Since I was little—and I'm talking _little_—like two or three." She idly stirred the ice in her drink, watching as the bubbles that had been stuck to the glass were swept free and swirled in a heavenly dance before floating to the top and disappearing. So long as she continued to concentrate on something she wouldn't have to make eye contact with those crimson eyes. For some reason, they almost seemed to hypnotize her.

"And just how much about him do you know?" His tone was almost honestly curious. _Almost_.

"He's my best friend," she returned stubbornly, returned to the phrase which seemed to act as some sort of weird comfort blanket in the situation.

"That doesn't answer my question," Kyo mildly informed her.

"Why do you enjoy tormenting me so?" she inquired, shaking her head. "I don't get it. I don't think anyone enjoys it as much as you."

Kyo was silent for a few seconds before he responded. "It's because my father never hugged me."

Yuya blinked, taken aback, before looking up and gazing into his bloody pools that were full of merriment and amusement. "Asshole," she replied evenly, not at all entertained in the least.

Even though she couldn't see it, Yuya was sure he was smirking behind his hand. "What's wrong, Dogface?"

"Could you stop calling me that?" she hissed, losing her temper.

"I think it's a very appropriate name," was all Kyo murmured in reply.

Before Yuya could snap back a witty reply, the waiter swung by and placed plates of steaming food in front of them, threw them a charming smile, and twirled to focus on another table with the grace only one accustomed to the waiting career could achieve.

"Oh, wow. It looks _really_ good!" Yuya exclaimed. Her belly let out a loud rumble, a protest from the tease of the sweet smell of delicious nutrition, demanding that she stop jabbing and eat already. She was more than willing to comply, digging into the steaming, delectable— "Oh, wow, that also looks really good!" she informed Kyo, interrupting her own fantasies as she eyed his plate.

He gave her a hard look and pointedly took another bite, swallowed, and then responded, "So it does. And so it is. Now eat."

"I wanna bite!" she whined, mouth watering. "What is it—chicken? I bet it's chicken…"

Kyo continued to send a glare her way. "It may or may not be—oi! What are you doing—?"

Yuya, too curious for her own good and the food too delicious looking for _its_ good, leaned across the table, snapped up a large chunk of well-seasoned meat, and dropped the morsel in her mouth. "Oh, wow," she murmured through a full mouth, "it's chicken alright. And _damn,_ is it banging!"

Kyo, scorned, offered her a scathing look. "Are you happy now?" he drawled.

"Very!" his companion cheered before returning to her original task of demolishing her meal happily.

She was one of the weirdest, silliest people he had ever know—scratch that, she was the _only_ person he knew that was so overactive… and yet, for some reason, something defrosted and melted inside him as he watched her silly antics over her own lunch.

If anyone passerby claimed to have seen the tiniest twitch of a smile on Kyo, they would have been eradicated immediately.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A cloud of fine dust particles were jostled from their original resting place. They floated around for a few seconds, enjoying and taking advantage of the free air time that was granted to them before slowly but surely floating down towards the ground and clinging to something. In this case, that something was the box that had been thrown down onto the desk carelessly, causing the dust migration in the first place.

"Goodness me! It looks like this place got an instant coat of dust overnight without the presence of a charming young woman," Yukimura chirped, gently blowing on the box, sending the dust flying back up into the air.

From behind him there was a sigh. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Of course," the pop-star assured smoothly. He then chiggled (1). "Rest assured, Kyoshiro, that everything is under control."

Kyoshiro sighed again, clearly agitated. "I just think that now isn't the most appropriate time…" He drifted off, leaving his thought incomplete.

"No worries!" Yukimura cheered. "You and Yuya will get over your little spat before you know it. And I'm sure that by the time this is all over, she'll be thanking you and you two will be laughing about it."

Kyoshiro gave his friend a concerned look. "Well, I don't know about _laughing_, but hopefully she won't hate me for life for doing this… Hell, _I'd_ hate me for life…"

"Yes, but you and the elder brother don't see eye-to-eye, now do you?" Yukimura smiled, humming, as he started to unpack the box.

Kyoshiro remained silent and unmoved for several long moments as Yukimura continued his work. Finally, he sighed and turned to the pop-star, who was facing away from him. "Yukimura…" Kyoshiro started, trying to find the right words to ask the question.

"Kyoshiro, did you ever even call Sakuya?" Yukimura asked cheerily, either not hearing or ignoring the impending question.

If Kyoshiro had expected the other to say anything,_ that_ most certainly hadn't been it. His oh-so intelligent response even said so. "Huh?"

"Sakuya. She sure does fancy you, you know." Turning towards Kyoshiro, he offered one of the bottles that were in his hand. "Have a drink."

Kyoshiro gawked, mouth slightly agape, before he recovered himself. "You are a _strange_ person, believe me. I've seen strange."

"I'm sure you have," Yukimura agreed. "Now. Have a drink."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

So Yuya was pretty sure she would have safely bet her college tuition, Kyoshiro's porn, and her baby—her gun, that is—that she would have never—_never—_turned to Kyo for emotional support of any sort. And yet, somehow he had managed to make her feel better by just calling her names and buying her lunch. And then, to top it off, she was cowering—_cowering—_behind Kyo as they headed back to the campus.

"I don't know why you're so worried," Kyo casually and nonchalantly informed her.

"He's my best friend," she whimpered, diving behind her security phrase again. "We've never fought before. I mean… he does do some of the most stupid things, but… we've never actually _fought_ before… What if he hates me?"

Kyo almost rolled his eyes. "You'll live."

" 'You'll live'? I'm fretting over the possibility of losing a friendship and all you can say to comfort me is '_you'll live_'! Remind me to never call you when my cat dies…"

Yuya continued to grumble to herself about Kyo's stoic words when they reached the campus. Immediately, the blonde whipped a glance in every direction and grabbed a hold of Kyo's arm, latching on tightly for support. Kyo immediately stopped short and sent her a deathly glare before peeling her off of the affronted appendage.

"Don't leave me," Yuya whimpered pathetically. If there was one thing she couldn't handle, it was confrontation. More than anything, she dreaded seeing facing Kyoshiro again in case he was still pissed and did end up hating her.

"Dogface—"

"Don't call me that!" Yuya protested in the same weak and pathetic tone.

"—I am not going to stand here all day and wait—"

"There you are!" a different voice interrupted Kyo.

Yuya peeked over her shoulder, saw who it was, eeped, and leapt behind Kyo, clinging to his back wretchedly. "I'm not here," she whispered to Kyo.

Kyo's horrible blood-red eyes stared Kyoshiro down, narrowing with animosity. Kyoshiro offered a glare in response, though it was much weaker than usual. "I want to talk to Yuya," Kyoshiro muttered.

Kyo casually crossed his arms. Somehow the gesture made him look more menacing. He said nothing, however, opting to remain silent, instead.

Yuya peeked over Kyo's shoulder meekly and then, seeing Kyoshiro wasn't angry, but rather agitated and upset, she offered a smile. Kyoshiro smiled easily in response, all of the ferocity summoned for Kyo drained from him. For some reason, they both knew that it was alright—they had apologized without words as they often did when irking the other. It made Yuya relax to know that they were treating the fight like any of their other bickers.

It was then that Yukimura showed up and ruined the moment. "I take it that you told her?" he drawled merrily.

"Told me what?" the blonde piped up somewhat suspiciously. She cast a curious glace to Kyoshiro who, for some strange reason, was no longer making eye contact and had gained instant fascination in the nearby floral grove. "Kyoshiro," she growled to him warningly, coming out from behind the protection of Kyo to put a hand on her hip, "what did you do now?"

"Oh, he didn't do anything, Miss Yuya," Yukimura instantly defended, smiling at her to ease her. "Rather, it's something _I _did. You see, due to unfortunate events, I got myself, Saizo and Sasuke mixed up and without a place to stay temporarily. So I asked my good pal Kyoshiro if he wouldn't mind if we stayed with him for a little bit."

Yuya blinked. "That wouldn't be a problem at all," she assured. "There's just one problem. That would make five of us staying in one tiny apartment. Is that going to work?"

Kyoshiro quickly glanced at Yukimura, who responded eagerly, "Oh, sure! It'll be fun, right?"

"Right. Fun," Kyoshiro murmured, scratching the back of his head.

Yuya grinned at Yukimura. "It sure would be an honor to have you, anyway," she told him, a little shy at the thought of a famous pop-star seeing her in her pee-jays. She then turned around to thank Kyo for putting up with her as she pouted over her and Kyoshiro's spat.

He was gone.

She wrinkled her nose. _He's such a weird character,_ she told herself.

And, indeed, he was.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya didn't see Kyo the rest of the day. He wasn't in any of his classes and she couldn't catch a single glimpse of him anywhere. It wasn't like he had any friends or acquaintances that she could hunt down to ask where he was, either. Except Okuni, but she didn't count. She probably never left the apartment, opting instead to wait there all day until Kyo returned and then flung herself at him like—

Oddly, Yuya had to stop dead to take a deep breath to calm herself. That red-hot fire sank its blistering teeth into the back of her mind again, unleashing in her a heat that was immensely hot and cold at the same time.

_That's right,_ _Kyo has a _girlfriend,Yuya thought tartly to herself. Her cold and vicious thought surprised her and she had to wonder where the animosity had come from. She also had to wonder why she always became so irrationally angry and irritated when Okuni was mentioned. She didn't even know the woman and yet, for some reason, she felt that if Okuni suddenly fell over and died from unknown causes she wouldn't be all too concerned…

_What's wrong with you?_ she hissed to herself, shaking her muddled head in an attempt to clear it. _You're not acting like yourself._

"Yuya-chan!" Benitora piped, coming from no where. "Are you alright? You look a little flushed…"

She managed to give him a strained smile. "I'm just fine."

"You don't look like it… How about I help you home?" he asked, taking her arm.

His alarm was touching, and she just downright couldn't bring herself to deny him. "Oh, sure. Why not?"

Benitora brightened. "Great! Where do you live?" 

"Not too far. It's just down the road," Yuya murmured.

"You can lead the way." With that, he looped his arm through hers—trying to be every inch a gentleman—and started away with her off the campus.

"You really don't have to do this if you don't want to," she reassured him. "Really. I was just letting my mind upset me, but I'm fine now. I swear."

"Miss Yuya, I would walk around the world for a pretty little lady like you. Taking a few minutes to make sure you get home safely should be made a top priority for everyone. Besides, there's nothing I love more than taking the time to help gorgeous damsels in distress." He grinned at her, and she knew he was being serious.

For some reason, a small part of her relished in the fact that there was _someone_ of the opposite sex who was willing to spend some precious time to treat her so exquisitely. That part of her was completely flattered at the treatment—she knew that she would _never_ find a guy who was so honestly worried about her that deeply. Another part of her, however, was slightly annoyed with him. She wasn't sure why.

"So what do you going to do with your life?" Benitora inquired.

"I'm not really sure," she hedged. "But something to do with history, that's for sure." Yuya had never really been good at idle chat. Her eyes locked in on her apartment and she tried to pick up their pace.

"Me, too! What a small world."

Yuya almost snorted. "Well, I _am_ in some of your classes," she reminded him instead.

"Right, right…"

"Hey," she started slowly, changing the subject, "you wouldn't happen to know where Kyo was today—would you?" She held her breath without realizing it while she waited for his answer.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't."

"Oh." Though her verbal response was small, she deflated instantly.

A silence developed between them as they mulled their own individual thoughts. It wasn't until they were stepping into the apartment complex that Benitora spoke again.

"Is this Kyo guy important to you—like a boyfriend or something?"

Yuya was slightly taken aback. "He's just a friend," she responded to him. Calling Kyo a _friend _seemed to take it a little far, but for some reason, the words were hard to choke out. Something deep inside of her wanted to dig its claws into the phrase and not allow for it to be heard by anyone—especially Benitora.

"Oh." And even though his verbal response was small, he lit up like a bonfire—the exact opposite of Yuya's reaction only moments before.

Yuya studied him for several long seconds. And then, in a quite unexplainable way, she was suddenly hit with an onslaught of thoughts as she remembered something.

"Benitora—"

"It's just 'Tora for you, Miss Yuya," he told her gently, smiling.

"—would it be too forward of me to ask you for your number—?"

The words had barely tumbled from her lips when Benitora had wrestled through his entire shoulder bag in a desperate search.

"—I know I have some paper in here _somewhere—_! Ah, here's some—uh… history note—alright, well, I _have_ to have a pen. Maybe I can rip off a piece of my shirt—found some paper! Now I just need—well, where's something sharp? Maybe I can—would you mind if I wrote it in blood?—Now I _know_ I had a pin in here _somewhere…_"

Yuya blinked. "Um… it's okay, really, I can get it from you tomorrow—"

"_NO!_" Benitora cried, completely aghast at the mere thought. "How about you run upstairs and find a paper and pen and I'll scream it up to you? That sounds like a good plan, no?"

"Uh—well, not exactly what I would call a _plan_," she nervously murmured. "I think I have a pen somewhere…" She rummaged around her own bag and pulled out the aforementioned writing utensil. "Here ya go."

"By the _gods_, someone is smiling down on me today…" He greedily snatched the pen from her and hastily scrawled out the digits of his number—yet he also did so very, very carefully so that it was legible for Miss Yuya—didn't want her to misread and not _call_ him. What a travesty!

"Thanks." Yuya tucked the number in the pages of one of her text books.

"When will you call?" Benitora was more than eager for an answer. "I'll be home in ten minutes, but if I run I can be there in three—"

"Now why would I tell you when I'm going to call?" she teased. "That would ruin the fun of it."

Benitora nodded vehemently. "Right. Ruin the fun. I'll be there in three minutes, tops!"

With that, he whirled and took off down the street.

Yuya blinked. "He," she told herself aloud as she ascended to her apartment, "is _quite _the character."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya clutched her highlighter a little harder.

"Come on, Kyoshiro," Yukimura persuaded, cheeks pink and eyes bright from inebriation, "let's sing just one song together."

"I, uh, don't sing," Kyoshiro hedged.

Yukimura took another swig of his drink. "Sure ya do! Everyone does."

"I don't," Kyoshiro stubbornly persisted.

"If Lord Yukimura wants you to sing, you will sing," Mr. Bandana sharply informed Kyoshiro. Yuya's eyes narrowed at the Mr. Bandana dude. She remembered running into him a few days ago and his rude comments. She thought maybe he just didn't like her. Turned out Mr. Bandana—sorry, _Saizo_—just didn't seem to like anyone. Except his holy _Lord Yukimura_. Yes, attach a lot of sarcasm to that sentence, please.

Kyoshiro looked ready to pout. Instead of fighting further, however, he took a deep breath and opened his lips to—

"Breath one note and I'll personally man-handle you with my gun," Yuya murmured lowly, almost casually, still studying her texts, in a tone that only Kyoshiro—who was sitting not too far from her—could hear. "And a toothpick," she added for effect.

Kyoshiro blanched and dispelled the air in a loud sigh. He then offered his company a strained smile. "I really can't sing."

Yukimura took another swig. "That's okay then," he cheered. "I'll sing for all of us! Sasuke, you play the music."

A nerve in Yuya's forehead twitched as the small child pulled out some sort of old-fashioned string instrument and started plucking at the strings. Yukimura joined him in a slurred verse. Before he started the chorus, he paused to turn to Mr. Bandana. "Join me, Saizo!" And then he continued his song. Saizo hesitated before joining his lord in song.

_The boy can't sing,_ Yuya grated to herself as she knotted her fingers in her long tresses and tried to continue her studies. _Maybe they'll quit before bed time,_ she thought hopefully.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"—_went up the water spout! Dooooooooown came the raaaaaaaaain—"_

"Yukimura-sama," Yuya cut in, her voice hoarse from the effort of not snapping at him, "don't you think that you should be getting to bed?"

"—_spider ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut._ Oh, Miss Yuya, thash—that's a great idea," he agreed. "How about one more versh—verse, though?"

Yuya gave him a strained smile. "It's approaching midnight. You need your sleep. Everyone else is already dozing off."

Yukimura nodded and stood, placing Sasuke—who had dozed off not long before—in his arms. "Alright Mish—ss Yuya," he complied, trying to hide his slur. "Goodnight. Goodnight, Saizo."

"Goodnight, Lord Yukimura," Saizo faithfully responded before gathering blankets and laying them out on the couch.

Yuya watched as Yukimura took his place in her bed—the one she had earlier heartily donated to him for the cause. Now, resentment bubbled somewhere in her belly. Sighing, the hostility instantly relaxing, she decided that it was her own fault and that she didn't mind the small sacrifice. Instead, she tried to make the best of her predicament and grabbed the spare pillow, fluffing it under her head, and relaxed on the carpeted floor. The small apartment was warmer than usual, more than likely from the heat that radiated off all the extra bodies. As such, she didn't want to overheat herself with a blanket.

Her exhausted body immediately relaxed and opened its arms wide for sleep to take her. She had almost slipped past the point of no return into the deep abyss of dreams and slumber when she suddenly jerked awake. With a silent gasp, she sat up, looking around her dark apartment. Though she wasn't sure if it was hallucinated from her half-alert brain or not, she had _sworn_ that she—

A loud, long snore tore through the air. The sound was harsh in the hush of the night and it caused Yuya to grimace. The night air acted as a microphone, making the noise seem bigger and more monstrous than it really was.

Yuya was about to lie down when the night was torn again. Her fingers twitched as her eyes trained on Saizo, dead to the world, lying on the couch. His mouth was opened so widely that it looked like it was being pried open by invisible hands. He inhaled again and thunder resounded in the apartment.

"Okay," she whispered to herself as she stood and smoothed out her nightgown, "_that's _the last straw!" And with as much dignity as she could muster, she picked up her pillow and marched silently out of the apartment. While she didn't have a precise destination in mind, she wasn't wandering for more than three or four minutes before she settled on her resting place—a little crook between two apartment complexes that was separated from the main road by a wooden fence. The pavement seemed clean enough, and Yuya was too irritated and annoyed to _really_ care where she slept so long as it was quiet and no one would disturb her. She knew that Kyoshiro was going to absolutely _flip_ at her when he found out, but she was beyond—well beyond—caring what he was going to say.

And so, cursing Kyoshiro for his lecture-to-come, Saizo for his snoring, noises that annoyed her, and her temper, she finally drifted off into sleep for what she planned to be the last time.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) It's been a while, so just another little reminder: "chiggle" is a word that I coined to capture the essence of Yukimura's unique laughter.

**Chaotic Angel7****,** Reignashii, **TokyoLi****,** midnight blue08, **Fluffy1322****, **The Violet Muffin,**.BeE-babii.****,** Princess Aralee, **Vaneles****,** MicheleKuchiki, **.v****,** hasel (anonymous) _(Hasel, um, so I'm not exactly sure what you were trying to ask in your review… You want me to make a continuation of something?)_

_Apologies for the long wait, my dears. I shall attempt to have shorter absences, I promise. I can't guarantee a more scheduled update pattern, but I can say that I shall most certainly not leave you hanging that long again. If you want to, I'm going to try to keep an update of how complete the chapters are, to keep me motivated and to give you a clue as to how long til the next update. :)_

_Now, my lovelies, please review? Tell me if I've lost my touch, ne? (Cuz it certainly feels like I've lost my touch…)_

_Aaaaaand the story shall be picking up pace from here on out, slowly but surely. Promise. There's some good, sweet Kyo coming in the next chapter. _

_Happy Valentine's Day! :) And a huge thank you to Jennipher-san for editing the chapter._

_Ciao!_

_P.S. FF-dot-net eradicated my pretty little time breaks, so now there is only an ugly-bar. :( This makes me sad… Anyhoo, forgive the ugliness, ne?_


	9. The Dangers of Misery

_**Author's Notes: **__I started this in _February_. Does that clue you in as to how busy I am? –sigh- I will try to get more done, though. For you, my lovelies. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__So maybe I don't own _Samurai Deeper Kyo_, but that can't keep my darlingdarling Yukimura-chan from me… Character-lease, anyone?_

_**Title:**__ Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 9: **__The Dangers of Misery_

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.  
_

She awoke to thunder.

Startled, a small sound slipped through her lips as she jolted alert. Confused, she looked around, then up at the sky. It wasn't raining, and the bright, starry eyes of the night twinkled back at her. Not a single cloud dotted the sky.

Yuya climbed onto her feet, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest for protection. _Just ignore it,_ a small voice whispered in the back on her mind.

Ignoring it, she crept silently to the corner of the building and held her breath, listening, trying to become more like her cousin, the dog, and sharpen her sense of hearing by focusing as hard as she could. The thick beat of her heart effectively blocked out any barely audible sounds—like footsteps.

_Go back and either lie down or hurry back to the apartment,_ the voice persisted.

With her heart pulsing her throat, beating hard enough to make her throat a little sore, Yuya quickly whirled around the corner, her fingers moving automatically to her purse to grab—

The dog froze, one paw poised in the air, unmoving. A small whimper escaped his throat—a confused, lonely noise—and Yuya ripped oxygen back into her starved lungs in a relieved gasp. Her hand clutched at nothing, instead of grabbing the revolver that she had originally been going for, her hand hit her side, grasping at thin air. For a moment, her petrified mind had forgotten that she hadn't brought her baby with her. Thankfully, though, she hadn't needed it.

"Hey, boy," Yuya crooned softly, still breathing a little erratically. "Come here."

The mutt lowered his head and stared blankly at her before inching slowly over as she continued to encourage him with softly spoken words. He was barely an inch away, with his neck stretched to curiously smell her hand while keeping his body as far away as possible, his muscles tensed to take off as soon as he needed to.

"It's okay," Yuya soothed, slowly reaching for the animal, who let out another confused whuff.

The dog suddenly yelped and danced back a step, shaking his head, small strings of spit flying away from his sharp teeth.

"What's wrong?" Yuya murmured, brow furrowed. "I'm not going to hurt—"

From the corner of her eyes, Yuya saw something move, but before she could even move, someone was suddenly pressed up behind her, a hand sealing her mouth, effectively making her swallow the rest of her sentence.

The dog's teeth came out in a growl as he backed up from her.

"It turns out I can't even take my eye off of you for a second," Kyo rumbled in her ear, taking his hand from her mouth.

Yuya turned to face glowing red eyes and she instantly fell into defensive mode. "I didn't even do anything."

Kyo's eyes narrowed and he reached down to pick up a small stone. Before Yuya could demand what he thought he was doing, he threw the rock at the dog in one swift, fluid motion. The pebble bounced off his snout.

Instantly, the dog became a different creature.

He snarled viciously, a hostile bark ripping from his throat. He shook his head again, more vigorous than before, and this time, rather than strings of saliva, bubbles of discolored foam started to form in his mouth, overflowing and frothing at the corners of his jaw. He snarled again, then sneezed, the force of it making him take a step back. When he looked up at Yuya again, his eyes were once more full of confusion. As well as that, an animalistic glint swelled in his dark orbs.

Yuya backed up, her back bumping into Kyo's chest. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, horrified at the drastic change.

"He's rabid. Anyone can see that. It had an empty look in its eyes. Plus"—Kyo smirked behind her—"it wanted to devour you."

Yuya gave him a look. "That's not what—"

But before she could finish her sentence, his hand came down over her mouth again. His eyes narrowed and slowly scanned the side of the road. "We're leaving," he murmured to her after a second. Then he grabbed her hand and started to whisk her away.

"Where are we going?" Yuya whispered back, not sure why they had to be silent.

Kyo didn't answer, instead distracting himself by casting glances in every direction. He stopped suddenly. Yuya stared at him, thoroughly perplexed.

"What's wrong?" she murmured so only he could hear. Kyo's eyes narrowed at her, a non-verbal command to keep silent. Then he glanced away to glare at something else.

As suddenly as he had screeched to a halt to glare at shadows, he continued to trek down the sidewalk.

As Yuya silently watched Kyo's antics—stopping and going at what seemed to be random intervals—and she wandered what had him so antsy. When he pushed her inside his apartment, she turned to face him, beyond perplexed, still clutching her pillow to her chest, resembling a small child who had run to her parents after a nightmare.

"Kyo," she said slowly, "what's wrong?"

"You're sleeping here for the night," he answered simply. "Sleeping on the road is too dangerous. You'd get yourself murdered before the night is out."

Yuya didn't know how to respond at first. "I was doing fine," she reminded him.

"Oh, yes, as I recall, you were just about to have your arm torn off by a rabid dog. That's what I think of when I think of 'fine.' " His eyes glinted at her dangerously.

Yuya bit back her terse response. She continued to stare wordlessly at Kyo, stubbornly, refusing to back down. Kyo, in turn, relaxed.

"You can sleep in there." He gestured towards one of the rooms and then walked over to open the door, patiently waiting for her to step inside.

Yuya, still silent, stepped inside quietly, deciding to avoid a fight in favor of sweet, sweet sleep. Kyo closed the door behind her, and the click of the latch almost seemed to echo. As she nestled into the warm blankets and soft pillows, she still clutched her own pillow, tightly clutching it to her chest. She finally released her hold when she realized that a thin layer of fluff and cotton would not protect her from the nameless evils that had Kyo scurrying her off the streets into the safety of his apartment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"—ridiculous."

"—all I—can't risk—doesn't matter anyway."

"—won't matter in the—can't know."

Yuya sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. It clung to her harder than usual, however. She yawned as she continued to try and make out the softly spoken conversation that was seeping through her door. Her curiosity was unable to quench itself though. With a swift farewell, the apartment door opened and clicked back into place. Only a few seconds later, Kyo appeared, leaning in the doorway.

"Eavesdropping isn't becoming of you," he informed her blandly.

Yuya blinked, her sluggish brain working hard to make sense of his words. "I wasn't eavesdropping," she finally managed when her thoughts caught up to her.

If Kyo paid attention to her response, he chose not to acknowledge it. "Classes are going to start in a little more than an hour," he rumbled.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching out her legs and back. "Okay," she mumbled. Her words fell on deaf ears, however, for when Yuya looked up again, Kyo was gone.

Mentally grumbling to herself about men and their issues on the art of suddenly disappearing and appearing—giving many people a heart attack in most instances—she rolled off the bed to fish out some clothes. Without thinking about it, her though process still a little muddled by sleep, she opened a drawer to the dresser and peered in, rummaging around for a nice shirt to wear. She pulled one out and unfolded it only to make a surprised face as confusion struck her.

The shirt was a moonless-midnight black button down shirt for men.

Yuya peered at it, baffled. Several moments later, she stuffed it back in the drawer and slammed it shut, cheeks pinked. Her previously muddled mind suddenly snapped to attention at the embarrassment of invading Kyo's clothes. Trying to distract herself, she turned her mind to the dilemma of finding clean clothes to wear. Since Kyo was the only person to live in the apartment—

_But he doesn't live here alone,_ she corrected herself, steeling her chest at the impact of the hot, heating beast that flung itself at her, clawing at her heart, moving on to tear at the back of her throat, scrabbling its way into the back of her mind and then starting to work at tattering it.

Yuya took a deep breath. _Don't be ridiculous!_ she snapped to herself. _You're dramatizing the situation—so what if he has a girlfriend? She may be an annoying, smug bitch but so is he._ Ignoring the protestation that flew up in Kyo's defense, she nodded to herself, forcing the hot, sharp heat—most definitely _not _jealousy by the way—to dissipate.

Peering into the main portion of the apartment, she saw Kyo reclining on the sofa casually, flicking through the stations of his TV. "Um," she started to get his attention. He didn't look back at her, so she continued, hoping that he was listening. "Are there any clothes here that I could wear? Like… ya know, women's clothes? Like maybe… Okuni's clothing?"

"Why would her clothing be here?" Kyo asked monotonously, not actually curious about her answer.

Yuya hesitated for a second. "Well, she lives here, right? Then shouldn't she have some sort of clothing stash?"

Kyo flicked his crimson eyes in her direction for a second. "That woman has not ever lived with me, nor will she ever do so."

Hope was what had her holding her breath. "But… isn't she your girlfriend?"

Kyo snorted in disgust. "Once more, that woman has not ever, nor will she ever, mean anything to me."

Something—most definitely _not_ jealousy—released her from its deadly claws. Her breath filled her lungs easier than before as her spirits—for some odd reason—were lifted. "Oh, she said that she was…"

"Okuni says a lot of things that aren't true," he replied carelessly.

"So then… I take it that you don't have any clothes here with you…"

Kyo changed the channel rather than answer. That was answer enough.

"Then… do you have _anything_ that I could wear?" Yuya persisted hopefully.

"_My_ clothes."

She sighed. "Maybe I could run home and grab something," she murmured hopefully to herself.

"Do you really want to walk the whole way home in what you're wearing at the moment?" Kyo continued to stare at the TV, but Yuya knew that he was more than likely smirking. He sounded too amused not to be.

She looked down at her night dress. It was short, three or four inches above her knee. The straps were thin—spaghetti straps. The material was thinner, and she was sure that in certain lights the thin cloth was almost see-through. While she hadn't cared about her appearance last night, too lost in cranky sleepiness, she was most certainly not taking a step out of the apartment in such a thing. Her cheek pinked at the simple thought of having Kyo see her in such a thing.

"Uhhh—"

"That's what I thought. Since I'm such a nice guy, I'll let you borrow some of my clothes. But give them back and wash them first, hm? I don't want them stinking of _you_, Dogface."

Yuya's face burst into an indignant red blush. Clamping her mouth together to hold back the retorts that blistered her throat, she whirled and stomped back into his room. With a little more force than necessary, she tore open the drawer she had earlier and rooted through it, searching for a shirt that wasn't overly masculine. After much deliberation, she chose the black button-up shirt that she had first seen earlier. She then grudgingly pulled on the smallest pair of jeans that Kyo had. They were still several sized too big and thus, she was left rooting through the room for a belt which she cinched tightly around her waist.

For some reason, it wasn't until she was completely dressed that she suddenly realized that she had slept in Kyo's room the night before—that much was obvious; she recognized the room from the last time she had woken in it—when she had had her little encounter with Okuni. Her brows furrowed as she mentally went through the apartment again, trying to remember if there was another bedroom in the apartment.

She couldn't recall one.

Kyo looked up at Yuya only because she had scrambled so suddenly out of the bedroom and slid to a halt in front of him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes?" he drawled.

She was glaring at him. "Where did you sleep last night?"

Kyo smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. I didn't sneak in to sleep with you if that's what you're wondering. I stayed on the couch."

"_Why_? It's your apartment, why didn't you put me on the couch? Now I have to live with the guilt of leaving you without a bed for two nights."

Kyo was unmoved. "I don't sleep in the room usually. I usually don't sleep very much in general. I almost always stay on the couch."

Yuya's bubble of anger visibly deflated. "Oh…"

"Now, please, go and brush your teeth. Your rank morning breath is enough to kill anyone."

He gave a small chuckle when she reacted violently, eyes widening, cheeks inflaming with a new onslaught of anger, carrying on about how she did _not _have morning breath, but nevertheless retreated into the bathroom to brush her teeth as best as she could without a toothbrush.

When she left, his amusement immediately evaporated, his expression turning darker and contemplative. He hadn't slept on the couch in months—maybe even a year or two—and he wondered what made him lie so blatantly to her about it.

Why did he care if she felt guilty about it, anyway?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya was pretty sure that no one—not a thing—could look more pathetic, not even a kicked puppy. Benitora was positively _drooping_ when he dragged himself over to her party. She cut off herself off mid-sentence, frowning, as the boy with oddly colored hair approached. She was a little thankful at his appearance as it distracted the distressed Kyoshiro from their conversation—her mysterious disappearance the night before because _really,_ Yuya, you need to stop running off in the middle of the night—who _knows_ what type of creeper could be slinking about in the night.

"Benitora," Yuya greeted. "Hey, what's up?"

He looked at her with broken eyes. "Miss Yuya, I waited all night by the phone, and you _still_ didn't call me." If possible, he drooped even more, aghast at such a thought.

Offering a reassuring smile, she murmured, "I was _really_ loaded with work last night, plus I had company over."

When Benitora continued to look like one of the most pathetic creatures to ever bless this world, Yuya gave in. "Oh, well, maybe I could squeeze in a quick call tonight…"

Instantly, within half a second, the pathetic boy who had looked as though the world were coming to an end suddenly sprang back into life, vivacious energy crackling in his eyes, vigorous enthusiasm strengthening his voice. "Really?"

"Yeah," Yuya gave in.

Pumping his fist in the air, Benitora walked away a new man.

"So who was that?" Kyoshiro asked after a beat.

Yuya sighed. "What may just be the most persistent man to ever walk this earth."

"Oh. Oh, dear," Kyoshiro fretted, his earlier concerns involving Yuya's 'running away' fleeing his mind. "That doesn't sound healthy."

"It isn't," his friend agreed solemnly. "Anyway, shall we head to class?"

He agreed that yes, they should, and together they headed toward their first period. It wasn't until halfway through said period that Kyoshiro suddenly realized that Yuya was—_once again_—adorning Kyo's clothes.

Almost snarling, he whirled to look at the culprit of such a scandal. Kyo didn't even grace him with a returning glare. Growling to himself, Kyoshiro made a mental note to tackle Yuya concerning her previous evening's activities as soon as class ended.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

His foot tapped a rhythm of great irritation when he whirled around in front of Yuya, pinning her against the wall with the intensity of his eyes.

"What happened last night?" he asked as patiently as he could.

Yuya, finding the argument of her escapade the previous night completely exhausted, sighed. "Kyoshiro, I'm not going over it again. Yes—I could have been hurt. Yes—I should have thought it through. Yes—it was stupid to do. But you _know_ I'm impulsive. Plus, I didn't get hurt _and_ Kyo happened upon me and let me stay with him for the night—"

"That," Kyoshiro interrupted, eyes narrowing suspiciously, "is what I want to know more about. Did he do anything to you? Cuz I _swear_ if he even looked at you in a way that made you uncomfortable—"

Yuya gave him a quizzical look. "He didn't do anything," she cut him off. "And I don't get why you think he's the worst thing since the Holocaust. He was very generous and hospitable—"

Kyoshiro snorted to himself. "Hospitable is not a word I would associate with him."

"—and he even lent me something to wear. See?" She gestured toward her shirt to prove her point.

His eyes narrowed again. "He just lent them to you only because you had nothing else to wear?" he repeated, clarifying.

"Duh. Why do you think he—" And like that, the epiphany dawned. Yuya's eyes widened and her face colored with anger, indignation, and another emotion which she couldn't quite place. "You mean you thought we—last night—_I don't even _know_ him!_" she howled. "I have dignity, you know! I don't just _sell _myself like—"

Kyoshiro, feeling the imminent threat of being stabbed with one of the sharp, deadly objects that Yuya seemed to snatch out of an invisible weapon threshold that only she could find, backed away, hands raised in surrender. "Nonononononono!" he chanted in a quick blurt. "I never said anything about you—it's just he—well, he has a reputation and—Yuya-chan, please don't hurt me!"

Quite a few students and teachers peered around curiously when two people zoomed by faster than the eye could see, leaving a trail of dust in their wake and causing several young ladies to shout indignantly when the breeze they caused made too-short short skirts fly up, revealing a little more than said poor, young woman would like—but which every male in the vicinity appreciated very much.

"Yuuuuuuuuuyaaaaaaaaaa! I'm sooooooooooorry!" Kyoshiro blubbered desperately. Despite his vigorous pleas of forgiveness, the scorned woman continued to pursue him, only feet behind him, her righteous anger fueling her on.

Kyoshiro was starting to think that all hope was lost—he was gone, gone and dead—when he slammed right into somebody, bouncing off of said person like a ball that has been bounced off a wall and crashing onto his back. He saw stars for several moments.

"Oh, Yukimura-sama!" Yuya greeted in surprise, screeching to a halt. She gave the pop-star a winning smile. "I'm very sorry, I'm sure he didn't see you there, but I'm also very sure he's sorry for running into you, or"—and then, as quickly as one snaps the middle finger to the thumb, Yuya turned deadly, pinning fiery eyes on Kyoshiro—"_at least he's going to be,_" she promised, venomous mirth poisoning her voice.

"Yu- Yuya-san," Kyoshiro whimpered, ducking behind Yukimura for protection and reverting to her nickname in the hopes that it would help to alleviate some of her deadly anger, "I—my tongue slipped and I lost control of my words and they just kept going and going and going, and not matter how hard I tried, they wouldn't stop, they just went on and on and on—"

"Kyoshiro?" Yuya interrupted almost calmly, smiling pleasantly.

The poor boy almost peed himself at her sudden change in attitude—she was most definitely pissed. "Yes?" he sniveled.

She beamed at him. "I found your secret stash of porn. Tell it goodbye, Kyoshiro."

"Goodbye, Kyoshiro." He sounded completely broken as Yuya tromped away and off campus—more than likely heading back to the apartment. Where she was going to…

Kyoshiro threw himself onto the floor face-first, completely defeated. Yukimura chiggled to himself and elegantly squatted down so that Kyoshiro could hear his gently murmured: "You know, if you hurry, you might be able to get there before her and—" He casually cut himself off. Kyoshiro was no longer face-first on the floor—

He was halfway down the block and closing in on the apartment fast.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So how long are you guys planning on staying, anyway?" Yuya chipped in, pausing her rhythmic chopping to glace at Yukimura over her shoulder.

The crisp, dark scent of fire was being masked by the sweet scents of stew and rice, hot and cooking in the kitchen, almost ready for consumption.

Yukimura hummed in contemplation before answering. "Well, I'm not exactly sure, Miss Yuya, but I'm thinking not more than a week at this point…" He drifted off to smile merrily. "Unless we're a burden?"

Kyoshiro, surprised, turned abruptly from his place on the couch, revealing the remnants of his right eyebrow, which looked crisped and crackled. Most of the fine hair was gone, leaving a thin streak of dark residue. What looked to be ashes dotted his forehead and clung to what remained of his left eyebrow. Before he could interject, though, Yuya responded.

"Not at all!" she spluttered, dropping the herbs she had finished mincing into the pot and mixing it with a large wooden spoon. "You're no trouble at all!"

"Totally!" Kyoshiro finally added. "It's great having more guys to hang out with—"

"Oh, wow, for a second there, I thought I heard _Kyoshiro speak_," Yuya commented lightly, beaming, turning toward the party—Yukimura, Kyoshiro, Sasuke, and Saizo—who dotted the rest of the apartment, sitting and lounging in their own place.

Kyoshiro cowered and turned his attention back to the TV. The hair was abnormally shorter in a patch on the back of his head—it looked almost as though it had been burned off in a freak accident…

No one spoke of it, however. Everyone valued life too much.

Not long after, Yuya pulled out a pile of plates, bowls, and cups. "Okay!" she chimed. "Dinner's ready."

While everyone shuffled over to receive some, they secretly contemplated the wrath of a woman scorned—the legendary wrath more fearsome than Hell itself.

Except Yukimura.

He was too busy hunting down his lost bottle of sake—it was still half _full_, gosh darn it!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The evening passed quickly and before she knew it, Yuya was fluffing up her pillow and wrapping a light blanket around herself, preparing for slumber. While she had felt too lazy to grab it the night before, she decided a blanket would be best for the night to come.

As she had expected, as soon as the lights were out and everyone was deep in sleep, she was abruptly awoken by a long, tearing snore. Yuya, more than annoyed by that point, stared at Saizo with poisonous darts in her eyes, aimed directly for his noisy mouth.

He inhaled monstrously again, and another snore was issued.

_I,_ she thought indignantly, _am _not_ listening to this all night._

With that, she stood and, more prepared than the night before, grabbed both her pillow and blanket and marched out. She walked down the block and across the street, then she walked the path she had taken, half-asleep, the night before.

She knocked on the door with bated breath.

When it didn't open, she let her forehead fall against the cool door and sighed. She didn't know why she was disappointed. It was a silly spur-of-the-moment thing—she should have learned by that point _not_ to give into them. They always ended in her looking stupid and-or getting into some sort of trouble. Really, she should have learned by that point that she needed to reel in her spontaneity and learned to have a more down-to-earth mind, complete with the pre-planning. But of course not. Not Yuya. She was—

"—in front of my apartment?"

Yuya squeaked and whirled, completely taken by shock.

"I—I—" All of her earlier planned lines fell from her lips, leaving her stammering. In the end, she decided the blunt way was the best. She was tired and just wanted to sleep. "Is there any way I can, uh, stay the night?"

She met his blood red eyes bravely, but was almost cowering away from him.

Kyo looked ruffled. Not from her request, but from something else entirely. Looking at him, she noticed he was exhausted, and more than likely coming home after a long day of—of what exactly? She hadn't seen him in their afternoon classes. He had just up and disappeared after lunch. (And Yuya told herself earnestly that she was not disappointed that she hadn't been able to dine with him as she had the previous days.)

Kyo opened his door, which was unlocked. "Get in," he silently ordered.

Yuya didn't need to be told twice, and slinked inside. Without thinking, she slipped into his room and delved beneath the warm blankets, relishing in their softness and security. She wouldn't realize it until the morning, but she had dropped the blanket and pillow she had brought in the hall (when he had snuck up on her) and hadn't picked them up.

Her silent protector's silhouette darkened her door frame before disappearing as he shut the door, securing her inside his room.

Though Yuya could very well have been suffering from delusions from sleep deprivation, she was sure that, like the night before, the only reason Kyo let her stay was that there was something dangerous on the streets.

She fell asleep before she could become disgruntled at the thought of Kyo, the terrifying being, feeling any sort of fear at what was possibly roaming the roads just beyond his apartment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**TokyoLi, **Chaotic Angel7, **Reignashii,**Fluffy1322, **stela, **kyoandyuya, **HuntressChita,** Arcticfire, **Kitani,** Soo-yun, **Brookie (anonymous)**

_I don't know if I like this chapter… I mean, it's better than the last chapter by miles, but still… eh. There was more Kyo, in any case. Sigh. Tell me what you think—review, my dears? _

_And now, Jennifer-san has decided to focus more fully on her studies. As such, I am once more in need of a beta for this. If any would be interested in helping me fix this story, please PM me or review and make sure I can contact you. :) Also, this chapter probably has some errors as it was edited by yours truly and I have a habit of missing things. X.x_

_Ciao! _

_P.S. Sayo, as dictated by nature, is _not_ a fan of straight quotes. The new format of FF-dot-net, complete with an obsession with said straight quotes, makes her eye tic uncontrollably. Just thought I'd share…_


	10. Hallucinogenic Drug

_**Author's Note: **__So, as I think about it, I realize I've been working on this story for OVER three years with nothing really to show for it… well, I plan to fix that. I really am trying to crank out more chapters more often for you guys because I've been updating at a RIDICULOUS pace, and I know that—but school has a way of taking over your life. So I decree that from here on out, Sayo will write every moment she has time! _

_**Disclaimer: **__Hey, Yukimura-san, who owns you?  
::Yukimura:: The Sanada clan.  
Ah. So you have done the dirty work and eliminated Akimine Kamijyo… Very good…  
::Yukimura:: Hm, what are you going on about?_

_**Title: **__Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 10:**__ Hallucinogenic Drug_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Yuya woke, she simply _knew _something was wrong. She wasn't sure if it was something _major_ wrong—like something was burning—or something _small_ wrong—like she forgot to wash her socks. But in any case, something was wrong and when she rolled over she looked the problem right in the eye and groaned, sinking deeper under the covers to hide her face.

"There's no point in trying to avoid me. I know you're awake."

Yuya cracked an eye and peeked out at Okuni. "What're you doing here? Kyo told me that you don't live here and that it's _not_ your apartment. So why are you here?"

"To talk to you," the older woman drawled. "Why are _you_ here, might I ask?"

Yuya swallowed—she could ask herself the same question. "What concern is it to you?" she shot back defensively, trying to dance away from the topic.

Okuni stared coldly at her for a few moments before sneering, all sense of a friendly ambiance dissipating. "Why are you so special?" she hissed. "Why is Kyo letting you do this to him? Who do you think you _are_?"

Yuya kept looking at the other woman defiantly with glistening emerald orbs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." Okuni laughed softly, mirthlessly. "He's willing to let you do this to him, but he's not willing to let you in and trust you."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Yuya demanded, growing frustrated at having no idea what they were talking about.

"You're _dangerous_ and because you don't even know about it, it's even worse." Okuni looked at her, face full of disgust.

"What. Are. You. Talking. About. I'm getting sick of being left out in the dark—what could Kyo possibly be hiding from me that could be dangerous or—or a threat or whatever it is you're going on about."

"That's not all of it," Okuni softly replied, her quit voice dangerous. "I'll bet you don't even know the bond between Kyo and that friend of yours."

"Who?" Yuya blinked, confused. "… Kyoshiro?" she asked after a pause.

"But of course. Who else would I be talking about? The coward." Okuni looked like she would have spat on the ground if she had been anywhere else at the mere mention of him—but she wouldn't do such a thing to Kyo's carpets. Oh, no, not to _Kyo_. And yes, attach oodles of sarcasm, please.

Yuya's hackles rose. "Hey, hey, hey—watch yourself. He may be an idiot sometimes, but he's my friend and I'll be _damned_ if I'm going to let you talk trash about him like—"

"Before you speak of things you know nothing of, perhaps you should demand to know the bond between those two," Okuni smoothly interjected. "Only then will you possibly understand what I'm talking about."

"Okuni."

Yuya's head snapped over to Kyo, leaning in the doorframe, looking murderous as he scowled at the woman.

"Kyo," the addressed woman breathed happily, completely changing into a different woman. "You look good this morn—"

"Do not," Kyo interrupted her, seeming not to even hear her, "think you can barge in here whenever you want and harass us." Their eyes met and Okuni—gods bless her foolishness—didn't look away from his intense, furious gaze. "Get out. Now."

She stared at him for a long moment. "She needs to know," she quietly told Kyo.

"I'm not going to repeat myself," Kyo firmly informed her.

Okuni didn't move for several long seconds, but finally stood and quietly obeyed, sending him a suggestive look as she passed, which he didn't seem to even notice.

Yuya swallowed and once the door shut, she shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "So… um. As much as I hate to ask—um, but it's too late to run back to my apartment—can I maybe… borrow some clothes?" She smiled innocently, hoping his bad mood wouldn't be directed at her.

"Ignore whatever that woman says," Kyo ordered monotonously as he moved around his room. "She's a pest."

Yuya didn't say anything. Instead, she contemplated what Okuni had meant by a _bond_ between Kyo and Kyoshiro. They couldn't stand each other—she couldn't imagine anything between them…

She blinked, snapped back to present, when Kyo dropped a pile of clean clothes in front of her. She looked up to thank him, but he was already gone and the door was already shut behind him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was probable that nothing could look as depressed; nothing had ever felt such dread inside; children sold into prostitution never felt so abandoned; a kicked dog never looked so hurt; a man sentenced to death never felt as doomed.

At least that was what Yuya was thinking when Benitora ghosted over to her. He was slouched, his mouth agape in a depressed twist. He looked downright pathetic.

"So sorry!" Yuya exclaimed immediately, guilt engulfing her. "Benitora, I'm sorry. I had company last night. I really, really am sorry."

"S'okay, Miss Yuya," Benitora responded, sounding almost comically depressed.

"Why don't you call me tonight if I don't get the chance to?" she offered. Then, she pulled out a scrap of paper and scrawled out her number. When she looked up at Benitora, he was a new man. The sun didn't even glow as brightly as he was.

"Thank you! Thank you, Miss Yuya!" He was babbling incessantly as he skipped away, looking at the paper like it was a box of golden treasures.

"Oh, no problem," she murmured to no one in particular.

"Well, he certainly looks happy, Miss Yuya," Yukimura drawled from behind her, smiling casually when she jumped and whirled.

"We—he—I—yeah," she finally stammered, completely shell-shocked at the pop star's sudden appearance.

"Ah, well. That's good." Yukimura hummed approval before continuing: "Say, have you seen Kyo around anywhere?" He made a point to give Yuya a thorough once-over, taking in the jeans—which were too big and being held up with a belt—and the loose-fitting—obviously _male_—shirt.

Yuya froze, for some reason growing almost embarrassed at his scrutiny—and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why! She had worn Kyo's clothes to school before and this time was no different… "Um, he's around here somewhere?" She cursed herself for turning it into a question.

The pop-star continued to grin merrily. "Ah, well. I wonder where he is…? Say," he continued when Yuya's cheeks turned a pretty pink, "just where did you go last night, Miss Yuya? Did you and Kyo have a nice night together again—?"

"Ohlookatthetime! I really must be off—gonna be late!" she threw out in two and a half seconds flat before whirling and quickly leaving the scene.

Yukimura blinked, a little confused, and tilted his head. "Wonder what that's all about?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Taking a deep breath, Yuya forced herself to regain her composure. Why was she running around blushing like a school girl? There was _nothing_ wrong and she _knew_ that. And yet… she felt on edge and jumpy. It bugged her to no end that she didn't know why, either.

"Kyoshiro," she called when she saw that he was milling pointlessly around, looking daze and confused. Upon hearing his name, he snapped back into reality and rounded upon her, looking unhappy.

"Where _were_ you last…" He drifted off and absorbed just what she was wearing—or, more accurately, to whom the clothes belonged. "… night?" Immediately after he had finished his inquiry, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Another night with _him_?"

Yuya waved his anger aside. "I already told you—it's hell sleeping in that apartment anymore."

But Kyoshiro was no longer paying any attention to her. He was scowling over her head. Before Yuya could even turn to investigate, there was a purr in her ear:

"Dogface."

Scowling in turn, Yuya faced down Kyo, hands on hips, ready to chew him out as she always did. However, standing between the two men, she was once more struck by how _similar_ they were.

Almost identical.

Kyo, however, was ever-so-slightly thicker, more muscle than Kyoshiro was, who wasn't a stick by any means, but slimmer and more boy-ish. Kyo's features were just a smidge sharper than Kyoshiro's, who had characteristics more like a boy. Kyoshiro, the boy. Kyo, the man. While the thought made Yuya cringe from the cliché sound, it seemed to fit them perfectly. The thing that tied them together: the last name—Mibu.

"How do you two know each other?" Yuya asked, the words slipping out before she had time to catch them. Okuni's earlier accusation had her curiosity burning fiercely—and she deserved to know, dammit. Kyoshiro was her _best friend._

Kyoshiro's eyes flicked away from Kyo for a second and she saw something flicker in them briefly. Kyo remained unmoved for a long pause, and then smirked at the other male.

"What, haven't you told her? You really are pathetic." Kyo's perfect lips turned upward into a smirk.

Kyoshiro snarled back in response. "I don't think it's any concern of yours."

"Told me what?" Yuya demanded suspiciously. When neither deigned her worthy of an answer, her temper reared and her patience started slipping. "Just _what_ aren't you telling—?"

"We're twins."

So shocked was she at first that she didn't know who had spoken. Then she realized it was Kyo who had said it. Kyoshiro visibly flinched, though from what she wasn't sure. His bright blue eyes immediately flicked to his friend's face, eyes desperately searching for a reaction.

Yuya, for her benefit, didn't immediately go into a rampage. Her hands slipped off her hips, falling limply at her sides, her muscles suddenly too weak to support her seemingly heavy arms. Her jaw muscles went lax and she blinked, trying to collect her thoughts. Then, the shock disappeared and anger bubbled up inside her and scorched her throat with hot remarks.

She clenched her jaw. "Kyoshiro."

Her voice was deadly calm, with underlying poison.

The addressed boy swallowed pathetically, his throat catching. "Y- Yes… Yuya-chan?"

"Don't 'yes, Yuya-chan' me," she retaliated harshly, all but snarling at her friend.

Kyoshiro winced at her temper.

"Is there anything you want to say?" she asked coldly.

He shook his head pathetically.

"Well, _I _certainly have something to say. All this time, and you didn't find it necessary to tell me that you _had a twin brother_? What the _hell_ is wrong with you? Best friends, my _ass_! Not only have you not told me about this over the course of our exceedingly long friendship but"—she shook her head in disgust—"you didn't even think I deserved to know _once I met him_? Geez, and here I thought you cared about me."

Kyoshiro struggled for something to say. "It's—we're—complicated," he offered weakly.

"Saying 'hey, I'm related to him' is _really_ that complicated?" Yuya retorted, rolling her eyes.

Kyoshiro said nothing so Yuya shook her head, fed up. "Fine. Whatever." She threw up her hands in defeat. "I don't know what to do with you anymore."

And with that, she turned and started off.

Kyo, for reasons beyond his comprehension, found himself following her. And Yuya, unconsciously (and for reasons beyond _her_), slowed her step until they were almost striding side by side and walked to class together.

Yuya didn't look back at Kyoshiro once.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Am I over-reacting?_

Despite the fiery anger that sizzled her still, she couldn't help but wonder that as her classes ended for the morning. She hadn't once even glanced at Kyoshiro, and found herself wandering the grounds when her classes broke for lunch, unsure as to what to do next. It was only appropriate that the person she wanted to see most popped up enthusiastically.

"Hey, Miss Yuya!" Benitora, literally, popped out of the ground before her, causing her to stop abruptly, and gave her a wave.

"Oh… hi?" She wasn't sure why there was a questioning inflection in her tone.

"Miss Yuya, you know, I know that you've had plans the past few days, and I'll understand if you can't, but—but can we have lunch together?" He gave her a goofy grin and looked up at her with the perfect puppy look, hope riding in his eyes and… were those pink sparkles shining in the background?

Despite that, a stone of doubt hit Yuya clean in the gut. Already, she felt as though she should crawl under a rock and hide for a long time (something like human hibernation), and she really wasn't sure that spending a meal with Benitora would help her any. He was too much work. She wasn't sure she had enough patience stored up inside her to deal with his—his _what_, exactly?

Yuya blinked, suddenly surprised at herself. She couldn't deal with his blatant flirtation—his blatant interest in her—his blatant compliments and _kindness_?

Was there something _wrong _with her? Other girls would sacrifice their _cat_ (or grandfather) for such attention. And she was turning him down. Blatantly.

"Of course I will, Benitora." And who knew—maybe hanging out with Benitora would help cheer her up?

Benitora blinked, apparently taken aback by something. "Did you—did you just say 'yes'?"

Yuya blinked back. "Um… yes?"

"_Hells_, yeah! Turns out I do have some luck today! Well, shall we go then, Miss Yuya?" Benitora simply beamed at her, completely ecstatic, all earlier resignation and depression from the phone call (or the lack thereof) utterly forgotten. He was a new man—a thoroughly new man.

"Of course, Benitora." Yuya smiled timidly, wondering if she was in over her head.

"Oh, Miss Yuya, please—just 'Tora for you."

Yuya nodded, but internally decided she was _definitely_ in over her head.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was quite a lovely café—really, it was. It was small and in a strategic location. It had a small area outside for dining on warmer days with fancy benches and glass tables. It had an uncharacteristically large menu with fair prices. Plus, there was a subtle romantic feel to the atmosphere, with the small table which set the diners up directly across from one another (for maximal conversation and eye contact), and the table itself was small and left room for little else beside the plates and glasses, enticing proximity.

However, something inside Yuya continually nagged that it wasn't _right_. Something about it was off—the waiters' forced, toothy grins; the attempt of the place trying _too hard_; the flowers placed exactly in the middle of the table. _Something_ was wrong with the place, and she wasn't sure what.

_You know what's wrong, _she sharply chastised herself. _This isn't the restaurant you go to with Kyo—_that's_ what's wrong. It's Benitora sitting across from you and not Kyo—_that's_ what's wrong. It's Kyo you want to spend time with and not Benitora—_that's _what's wrong._

Yuya harshly reprimanded herself. Benitora was a _very_ nice man. He was kind and courteous—and never spoke ill of her to her face. He never insulted her or spoke to her in any tone that wasn't eager and excited (save those times where he seemed ready to crawl under a rock and die because he lacked a phone call from her—but that was another matter!). And—

And yet, she found herself staring at the thin, fancy table cloth; at the small, thin blades of the ceiling fan; at the intricate painted design on the wall that wound around the room; at her napkin; at her twiddling fingers or even just her lap—anything so long as she didn't have to look up and admit that it was Benitora and not Kyo that was sitting across from her. It was Benitora, not Kyo, who she was blabbing on to. And she wouldn't admit she was trying to talk as much as possible and leave as little room as possible for any comments from him so that she wouldn't have to hear his voice and ruin the illusion that it was, indeed, Benitora and not Kyo who she was dining with.

_What's _wrong_ with me?_ she wondered suddenly and almost viciously to herself. _It's not like Kyo runs my life. He's not my master. He's barely even a friend. Why am I getting so fired up over this?_ She frowned in contemplation, staring down at her lap.

Their food arrived and she started to eat it listlessly, barely tasting it.

_It tastes like ashes,_ she commented carelessly. The last part of the thought—_because this isn't _our_ restaurant_—was erased from her mind before she would allow herself to think it. The café simply didn't have talented cooks; that was all.

She was so consumed with Kyo (and trying so hard to shove him out of her mind), that when she looked up to give a (forced) amiable smile to Benitora, she swore she saw him walk past the café window.

Deciding not to give in to her fantasies, she didn't bother to turn and check. Instead, she gave a general response to a question Benitora had asked (and which she had been too consumed with her pro-anti Kyo thoughts to properly hear) and tilted her head in interest as he continued to speak.

And oddly enough, Yuya continued to conjure up Kyo—because there he came, strolling through the café doors and turning toward their table without hesitation, not even pausing to take a look around and search her out. He just _knew_—which was almost creepy, but not quite because he wasn't real. Her hallucination looked her in the eye and her breath caught in her throat as his blood red orbs _bore_ into her, seeming to rip apart the layers of her essence and see right into her soul.

Benitora continued to chatter on obliviously, taking her pause in conversation to his advantage and making up for his lack of responses until that point, barely stopping to take a breath.

Kyo stopped just beyond Benitora, and without even gracing the other man with even a glance, he rumbled, "We're leaving."

Yuya blinked several times to assure herself that yes, indeed, that was _Kyo_ standing there and not her hallucination. She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it to blink again.

Benitora finally turned to look at Kyo and frowned. "Hey, now, I was promised a meal with her fair and square. I don't see why—"

"We're leaving," Kyo interrupted smoothly to repeat, his eyes telling Yuya to obey him.

Yuya set her jaw and allowed her stubborn streak to override her desire to hop up and skip away with him merrily. "Do I have any say in this?"

"No," Kyo answered simply.

"Well now, I really must insist that she get to choose—she wanted to eat with me and I didn't see you around at the time protesting the idea—"

Kyo's eyes flicked to Benitora, who drifted off sharply. With the pink-haired idiot muted, he grabbed Yuya's wrist in one fluid motion and pulled her to her feet. Benitora stood and opened his mouth to protest, but a simple flick of Kyo's eyes kept him silent—still in his _now wait just one moment here_ pose—but silent, nonetheless.

He then proceeded to drag Yuya away rather ungracefully.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She was dumb-struck for several long moments, shocked into silence as Kyo led her off somewhere. Finally, when they were a great distance from the café and in a more secluded, quiet area, she caught her bearings and tried to tug her wrist back.

"Kyo—I didn't even get to finish eating!" she cried to him, her tone somewhere between annoyed, excited, and awe.

Rather than reply to her statement, he kept a firm grip on her and kept going. He glanced momentarily back at her.

Frustrated at the lack of a response, Yuya decided to direct her resentment into a different topic. "Hey! Did you know that Kyoshiro was keeping his relationship with you a secret from me?" She tried to make her voice as dangerous as she could in her current predicament—which, admittedly, was about as scary as a soaking wet kitten hissing pathetically in annoyance.

Kyo once more remained silent.

"Oh, come _on_!" Yuya yelled, growling. "Don't you think I've had _enough_ bullshit for the week? I mean, with a father _and_ a best friend conniving behind my back—and sometimes they even have the nerve to plot against me _together_! I have to deal with all this shit at school with you and Kyoshiro trying to get into as many fights as possible. I have a _circus_ in my apartment now which consists of people far too important for me to kick out. And I have to put up _your_ sucky attitude and I can't even enjoy a simple date. I'm—sick—of—_everything_!" With each emphatically pronounced word, she tugged with all her might at her wrist and pulled it free (though she wouldn't admit that Kyo had loosened his grip).

Kyo kept his back to her for several moments while the color rose in her cheeks, her eyes narrowed at him. Then, he glanced up at the sky for a quick minute before turning to her.

Immediately, she felt some of the air being sapped out of her and the color in her cheeks started to recede. She blinked at him, confused at his disturbingly thoughtful expression.

"Maybe you need some time away from things, then," he finally suggested simply.

"Okay." Yuya's words came out slow, careful and unsure. "What would you suggest?"

She was almost perturbed at what she saw for just the briefest of seconds—a quick flash, and then gone. With anyone else, she would have shrugged it off as a reflection of the light or the way she had blinked. But she knew better—for just a second, she could see a swirling of emotions within those crimson eyes. For just a millisecond, she saw that he was having a ferocious mental war over something—but what, exactly, that was, Yuya had no idea.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her then. Maybe it was the way he paused when he went to turn around to give her another quick look—like a young, exploring puppy looking back to check and make sure his mother was still there—that told her what he wouldn't. Maybe it was his body language: The way his moved his hands, almost as though beckoning something subtly. Or maybe she just _knew_ in some way that was unexplainable.

But she knew what he was suggesting.

"Stay away," he rumbled as he turned and left, and she wasn't sure what to make of that.

She also wasn't sure whether or not to be annoyed beyond belief at the fact that he dragged her away from her date and then walked away from her, leaving her to find her own way home.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya studied the shirt before nodding crisply and tucking it away with the others. Somewhere in the background, she could hear Kyoshiro's pleas.

"—maybe you're just over-reacting—cool down?—do anything stupid—going to be _so pissed_—you know—I'm a dead man…"

"Kyoshiro," Yuya addressed him tamely after several long minutes, "_yes, _I am still furious with you. I can't believe you wouldn't tell me something like that when we're supposed to be best friends—and I've told you so many secrets that I entrusted to no one but you. It's like you directly betrayed me… Despite that, _no_, I am not doing this because of my anger." She paused to take a breath and looked up at him miserably.

Kyoshiro swallowed a lump in his throat, suddenly at a loss. He hated making her feel like this—she was the one person he would _never_ purposely hurt. "Yuya…" he started lamely, only to drift off.

"Kyoshiro," she addressed again, unusually serious and calm—peaceful almost. "No matter how hard I try, there is _someone _there running my life… whether it's my father or you or… anyone. I wanted to get an apartment away from my family so that I could run my own life. And with you around, I can't. I just…" She drifted off, her expression momentarily crumbling. "I just want to be on my _own_. I want—I want a few days away, where I can actually run my own life."

Never her. She was the one person he would give everything up for.

"Yuya…" He drifted off again, sounding desperate. She stared up at him imploringly, the determination in her emerald eyes causing them to gleam. "Please…" he tried again. He racked his brain for some excuse to keep her there—anything at that point. "Where would you go?" he croaked.

Yuya looked down momentarily, her determination flickering. "I'm figuring that out now."

"What about Yukimura and the others?" he tried again.

"You can take care of them," she answered slowly, thoughtfully. "I can't sleep here when they're here, anyway… They said they wouldn't be here for more than a few days. I guess when they leave—I'll come back."

"I'll tell them to leave tonight." He was going to beg. He knew he was.

Yuya looked up at him for a long moment and shook her head. "Don't. Please let me do this, Kyoshiro? It's just a few days—no more than a week…"

She didn't quite seem to _understand—_

"Please don't go," he whispered, his dazzling blue eyes darkening to a deep sapphire. He knew that if she didn't agree, he wouldn't be able to force himself to stop her.

She shook her head sadly. "I have to, Kyoshiro."

"Please stay here."

Yuya zipped up her overnight bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder, getting to her feet. "I'm going to be back," she promised.

He made a noise of agreement then, giving in before he did something he would regret. She gave a tentative smile as she passed him and headed out—

And he knew she was slipping away.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She hunched over herself as she marched, determined not to lose her nerve and run back. She took deep, even breaths to keep her nerves calm. She was _sure_ she hadn't misunderstood—everything was going to work out. Everything was going to be just fine.

Her feet echoed on the familiar wooden stairs, unnerving her more. Each _thump_ set her heart off faster and faster until it was hammering so hard against her chest she swore that if she pulled up her shirt to examine it, she would see it, comically thrusting outwards and leaving a perfect indent against her skin—like in cartoons.

Instead of checking the current status of her poor, abused life-giving muscle, however, she clenched her teeth and tensed her shoulders, stopping in front of a door.

_Maybe I misunderstood,_ she thought wildly. She chewed on the inside of her lip and bore a hole into the wood of the door with her stare. Hesitantly, slowly, she raised a hand to knock. She placed the backs of her knuckles against the cool wood and waited, her pulse thrumming throughout her entire body.

_This is ridiculous,_ she snarled to herself, annoyed and terrified. _There's nothing scary—you've done this before!_

She rapped the door and held her breath—

The door opened almost immediately—_like he was waiting? —_ and a cool gust a air fanned her face. She immediately took on the role of a deer caught in headlights.

_What if I was wrong?_ her mind wailed horribly. _What if I misunderstood? What if I'm assuming? What if—?_

"What are you doing here, Dogface?" Kyo leaned against the doorframe carelessly, his blood red eyes taking in her appearance.

_Please don't tell me I read you wrong earlier!_

"I—" She cut herself off, hesitated. "Can I stay… here?"

"Well, I don't where else you'd stay—the hall isn't too comfortable. And considering you've been crashing here regularly, I'm surprised you're even asking." He smirked, his eyes flicking to her bag. "Plus, looks like you already packed—what? Are you trying to move in with me now?" He smirk grew more mischievous, and Yuya doubted herself again.

"For a few days?" she asked, and she didn't know if Kyo would understand what she meant at first since she hadn't even vocalized a complete thought.

He didn't verbally answer—he just continued to smirk at her and moved out of the way so she could come in. Once she entered, he closed the door—

But not before frowning sharply and checking both ends of the hall, his blood red eyes flashing dangerously in the gloom.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Reignashii,**__Chaotic Angel, **kyoandyuya,** Arctic Fire, Jennipher_(it's forever forgiven. XD School's almost most important)_**, **Chickedy-pea, **Ally-chan1447,** sess18, **midnight blue08**

_Thanks so much for reviewing and remember this story despite the sporadic update pattern! :) _

_Comments much appreciated! This chapter was iffy to me. What do you guys think? Yay or nay? While updates won't be once a year, due to my horrible academic schedule, they shall be fairly often! Hopefully. :/ And thanks to ArticFire for editing this chapter!_

_A side note. Anyone here read _Watashi ni xx shinasai_? Good stuff, there. XD_

_Ciao!_


	11. Late Night Prank Calls

_**Author's Notes: **__I'm really trying to get things going, here. It's been kinda slow until this point plot-wise. But hopefully soon things will start to come together. …Hopefully. I dunno, though. I honestly have no control over what I write—it forms as it pleases these days._

_**Disclaimer: **__What? You want me to _disclaim_ the fact that Yukimura-sama owns my soul? What type of cruel, cruel people are you?___

_**Title: **__Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 11: **__Late Night Prank Calls_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He blew disheveled hair from his forehead, the strands levitating momentarily before plopping back down. "I don't _know_ what to think anymore."

"Ah," his companion smiled, lifting a bottle to his lips to take a sip, "but that's just the problem, isn't it?"

He sent a sharp look to the other man. "Be serious now. This was all your brilliant idea. I didn't—I still don't—" He stumbled over his words before asking, more to himself, desperately, "What do we do now?"

Yukimura took another swig from his bottle. "We don't do anything. Things are working out just as we wanted, right?"

"You mean just as _you_ wanted," was the vicious retort.

Yukimura paused before turning to look at Kyoshiro curiously. "Whatever do you mean? You also wanted them together—"

"Not _together_ together!" Kyoshiro snapped, placing his chin in his palm and glaring at the wall angrily. A voice in the back of his mind tried to ask him how two people could possibly be "together" without being "_together_ together" (whatever _that_ was supposed to mean, anyway). He promptly shoved it off a cliff before it could utter more than two syllables.

Yukimura titled his head, his bottle millimeters from his lips. "You knew full well what the plan was from the beginning—why are you suddenly so agitated, Kyoshiro?"

Kyoshiro didn't answer. Instead, he continued to bore holes into the wall with his gaze.

Yukimura took a slow swig of sake, rolling the liquid around in his mouth, savoring the bittersweet taste. His deep blue eyes thoroughly scrutinized his companion, dissecting his outer emotions and translating them easily—and he once more felt something like sympathy at what he read. Rather than mention anything about it, he allowed Kyoshiro to continue to glower at the wall.

"I don't like this at all," Kyoshiro growled. "It's getting too complicated."

Yukimura sipped from his bottle again and when he swallowed, he smiled and leaned back. "Indeed, I suppose it is." A small silence descended and then, almost an afterthought, he tacked on: "Oh, yes! Don't forget about poor Sakuya, hm? She's waiting for a call from you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya swallowed and fiddled with the strap of her bag as she stared into the expanse of the mostly-empty closet. There were a few button-up shirts pushed into the corner and a couple of small boxes on the shelf above the rack. She nibbled on her lip uncertainly.

"You're sure?" she asked again, just to get clarification _one_ more time.

"I'm not answering you again, Dogface," was the response from the figure leaning in the door casually, his arms crossed and head lazily resting on the wood of the frame.

"Okay," Yuya murmured guiltily, dropping her bag to the ground. And with that, she proceeded to hang her clothes in Kyo's closet. Already, she was having second doubts—mostly about her choice in her new temporary room mate. Just what the _hell_ had possessed her to come _here_ of all places? It wasn't as though she and Kyo were extremely close—just the opposite, really…

So then why…?

Yuya peered over at him curiously and studied him, as though his body language would be enough to give her all the answers. Instead, her eyes locked onto his intense, crimson gaze and her breath froze in her throat. His eyes seemed to see right through her… and the intensity within them sent a shiver down her spine—and that wasn't necessarily bad. Goosebumps flooded the skin of her arms and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, more than likely creating gooseflesh there, as well.

And all of that wasn't necessarily _bad_.

The way he _looked_ at her…! Was he trying to do something to her? Her befuddled mind floundered desperately, trying to regain her thought process.

"Kyo," she called to him gently, her voice curious—almost as though she was trying to ask him everything that tormented her over-active mind with one word.

Almost as though the one word summoned him, he pushed himself away from the door and approached her. His gaze never left hers, boring into her with a burning intensity that left Yuya breathless.

Why did she come here, to Kyo, who she couldn't _stand_ half the time?

When his body was less than two feet from hers, Yuya impulsively panicked and took a step back. Kyo's expression was serious—uncharacteristically so. His solemn face and burning gaze perturbed her.

Why did he let her stay with no protest when it was obvious that he wasn't fond of her at _all_?

For each step she took backward, Kyo took one, advancing on her. It wasn't long until her back hit the wall and she swallowed, knowing she had no where to go and he was free to—to what exactly?

Why did she find herself throwing out _all _logic around him?

She would have trembled if she was a younger woman—but she wasn't a weak, sniveling girl. She was _Shiina Yuya,_ dammit! And yet despite whom she may or may not have been, she found her lungs failing to function properly when he continued to advance on her and her heart stuttered when Kyo leaned slightly and placed a hand next to her head. She froze, with held breath and the start of a possible heart attack, as Kyo stared down into her eyes.

Why didn't her curious reactions around him _worry_ her?

"Kyo," she managed to breathe, and once more, his name spurred him to action. With a graceful arc of his neck, his lips descended toward hers and she knew that he was going to kiss her. And she also knew that she would kiss back. She knew this as assuredly as she knew that her name was Shiina Yuya and that her faithful gun was in the side pocket of her bag. She knew this and yet—

Why didn't it scare her _senseless_?

With a mixture of horror and awe, she started to realize just what she was feeling as Kyo's lips came closer and closer to hers. His eyes still burned into hers—but now there was something flashing behind them that she couldn't quite place. But no matter what happened, she wasn't scared. Nowhere near scared—rather, something akin to fire burned deep inside her and singed her veins as the last millimeters between their lips disappeared. Through the intense heat, Yuya's mind whirred and she wondered if she should be the one to bridge the gap. Deep within her bubbled some new emotion. It wasn't fear, but rather—

And just like that, there was a knock on the door and Kyo froze, his gaze hardening and his face growing even more solemn than before.

And then he straightened and headed out of the room to answer the door.

Yuya let out her breath and her burning lungs scooped in air hungrily. She slowly slid down the wall and landed on her butt, her legs suddenly made of Jell-O and too weak to support her weight.

What the hell just _happened_?

Had she seriously been about to kiss Kyo? _The_ Kyo? The guy who was a complete and idiotic jerk? That Kyo?

_It wouldn't have been the first time he kissed you,_ a small voice reminded Yuya from the back of her mind.

She wrinkled her nose at the memory. He had taken complete advantage of her before as a 'game.' A faded pink shade blossomed across her cheeks and it was most definitely out of anger. Did he think he could kiss her whenever he pleased and she would just let him? What—was she a toy now? She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, reining in her ferocious temper. Just _what—_

"—are we going to do?"

Yuya blinked, surprised at the unfamiliar masculine voice—Kyo's visitor most likely. Putting a plug in the faucet of her thoughts for now and completely forgetting about her rattled nerves, she tuned in to the conversation.

"I really don't care what _you_ do," Kyo responded. "I'm not a part of this."

"Is that what you think?" The voice was careless. "You can't just turn your back."

"I did nothing of the sort."

There was an undertone of anger in the stranger's tone this time. "Then what the hell do you call _this_? What are you doing with your time? _Wasting _it—"

"What I do with my time is none of your business," Kyo crisply informed the other.

"That girl is trouble," Kyo's guest murmured, the subject suddenly changed. Kyo remained silent and he continued, "I suppose you know that, don't you? They know about her, you know."

"This is none of your concern," Kyo rumbled, clearly telling his companion the matter was not up for discussion.

A tense silence followed that lasted for a good thirty seconds. And then—

"Okuni's going to stop in and check up, as well."

Kyo sounded like he would've liked to snort. "Tell her not to bother."

"You know there's no telling her what to do when it comes to you."

And then it was Kyo's turn to swing the topic in a different direction. "Don't you think it's about time you were gone?"

His visitor didn't deign that comment with a reply, but simply continued his previous point: "She should be coming any time now. Just a fair warning."

Kyo's silence was his response. The front door squeaked gently as it opened and clicked when it closed.

Yuya clenched her hands, nails biting sharply into her skin as she tried to grasp the emotions that rocked her mind. She was no longer focusing on what was happening beyond the recesses of her chaotic mind, deciding instead to figure out just what the hell was happening to her. She had almost _kissed_ that bastard. And yes, of course, not the first kiss she would have shared with him—but their first experience had been imposed upon her by none other than Kyo himself. This time… _this_ time—

_I wanted to kiss him._

And there was a big difference between wanting to be kissed and wanting to kiss someone else.

Yuya closed her eyes to calm herself and decided not to open them—it was easier to think when her eyes couldn't become distracted by her surroundings. As she sat there, back against the wall and legs splayed out before her—the exact way Kyo had left her—she wondered why she allowed him, Kyo, to mess around with her emotions so much. Yes, she also got wound up about Kyoshiro, but Kyoshiro was her best friend—her biffel (BFFL) (1). It was in his job description to drive her crazy. But the way Kyo drove her crazy—it was different somehow. It affected her more deeply. It was…

Yuya let out a shaky sigh. She cut off her thoughts abruptly. There was no way she was going to tread down that dangerous path. Kyo had kissed her for the hell of it. She had wanted to kiss him just for the hell of it, too.

No other motive had possessed her—really. Honestly and truly.

It wasn't like she had _feelings _for him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

This was ridiculous—absolutely _ridiculous_. He was almost cowering, curled under a blanket in the fetal position. And—for god's sakes!—his hands were actually _trembling_. Since when did he _tremble_?

Several dark flashbacks—involving Yuya and her odd habit of materializing sharp, pointy objects when upset—scoffed at his notion of no previous fits of trembling. He had trembled _lots_ when that woman grew angry and smote everyone in her path. (He trembled at the memories alone.)

Snapping himself back to his present situation, Kyoshiro blinked down at the small Object of Doom which he currently held in his hand. In the other hand, a small piece of paper stared up at him, the loopy handwriting laughing at him.

Or maybe that was his rattling teeth. The trembling was really getting to him.

Taking a deep breath and deciding that he was a man and thus he _could_ do this, he lifted the phone and gently pushed the numbers, listened as the dial tone buzzed, took another breath, and—

"Yes, hello?"

—quickly disconnected the call.

It took him a full seven seconds to fully realize what he just did. And then he hung his head and sighed. Why did things never go as planned? He was supposed to respond to the greeting, say who it was that was calling, and start a conversation. Instead, he curled up farther under the blanket and pouted.

After a pause, he tried again. Nerves rattled, he once more typed in the number, digit by digit, and waited with bated breath.

"Hello?"

_Click._

Incredulously, Kyoshiro took the phone from his ear and checked to make sure that _yes_, _indeed_, his fingers impulsively acted on their own and disconnected the call.

Quickly, before he could give himself time to think about it, he dialed again and waited as the call was answered—

"Hello? Is someone there?"

—and quickly hung up.

Only to try again—eventually, his valiant efforts would pay off.

"Hello? Really, this is becoming ridiculous."

And he hung up.

And he tried again.

"Alright, if you keep calling like this I'm going to call the police."

And hung up.

But decided to take another swing.

"If you call again, I'm going to block your number and call the police."

And hung up.

And decided that maybe he had had enough valiant efforts for the night. There was always tomorrow to try and call Sakuya… if she even answered the phone ever again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Maybe if she thought hard and tried to remember, she would recall the warm, strong arms that gently picked her up and laid her out on the soft bed and then proceeded to place thick, comfy blankets atop of her so she wouldn't be cold.

Maybe, but she didn't think of trying to remember. Instead, she woke up, disoriented and confused, looking about her in confusion and trying to piece together what had happened.

Had she fallen asleep? If so, shouldn't she be propped up against the wall, sitting on her butt, and not in the bed?

Yawning, she decided it wasn't all too important and laid back down, cuddling with the warm blankets.

However, she couldn't fall back asleep because a soft murmuring of voices slipped under the door and pervaded the room. Half-asleep, she couldn't make out the exact words, but Yuya knew—just _knew_—that she wasn't going back to sleep while whoever-the-hell-was-talking was talking. So, being extremely cranky when roused from sleep, she decided to storm out and plainly tell everyone to shut up.

And so, she stood up, and marched over to the door. She cracked it open and readied herself to yell for everyone to shut up—and promptly froze.

There, not more than thirty feet away, sat Kyo on his couch, his arms draped over the back of the cushions. And there, sprawled across his lap, was Okuni, brazenly smiling up at him.

Taken aback, Yuya lost her voice. Instead of yelling like she had originally planned, she stood there, gawking silently. Her eyes were wide and her heart sped up exponentially.

And then, smoothly, liquidly, Okuni pushed herself up on Kyo's chest, her breath more than likely warming his neck suggestively as she went, and she lips brushed his ear as she murmured something.

Yuya thought that would be the end of it—that Okuni would settle back down in Kyo's lap and continue whatever she was doing. But no—the torture had to be worse. Murphy's Law slapped her in the face, like it always did.

Okuni's teeth took the lobe of Kyo's ear and gently nibbled it.

A red-hot flush colored her cheeks as Yuya promptly shut the door, refusing to watch any longer.

_I don't want to watch as they do something like_ that, she thought viciously.

Cheeks flaming, heart running a sprint, blistering fury scorching inside her, she lay down on the bed and jerkily covered herself up. She took deep breaths to calm herself down.

Something sharp and bitter pricked her eyes and she was surprised to find that tears were welling in her eyes. She feverishly rubbed her eyes, eradicating their presence immediately. She was not going to _cry_ over that idiot. She didn't care _what_ he did or who it was with. She didn't care if he decided to get plastic surgery and become a woman—she really just didn't care.

Impulsively, Yuya pulled her bag over to the bed and rifled through it, pulling out her cell phone and a paper. Without pausing to think it through, she dialed the number on the paper and waited as it rang.

Someone answered on the fifth ring, sounding groggy and half-asleep.

"Hey-'sup-whowizzit?" (2) Benitora slurred.

Yuya's heart froze and she lost her nerve, hanging up immediately and turning off her phone so that he couldn't call back. She then threw her phone to the ground like it was a snake that was going to bite her.

Her cheeks burned even hotter as she dived back under the covers, feeling worse than before. She had tried to talk to someone who hung over every word she said, more or less to prove to Kyo that there was _someone else_ who wanted her—despite the fact that her calling Benitora wasn't going to prove anything to Kyo as he didn't know about said call and he wouldn't care, even if he did.

All of that put together—plus what she had witnessed—made her feel the worst yet and she actually shoved her face into her pillow and hugged it, hoping it would help. It didn't.

_Oh, what am I doing here anyway?_ She wondered to herself miserably. Thus far, nothing good had come from leaving her apartment with Kyo and trying to shape her own life. Maybe she would pack up and go back to her old apartment. Kyo sure wouldn't notice.

Yuya closed her eyes and tried to force herself to go back to sleep. She decided she was no longer going to think about that idiot or what he did or did not do. She simply didn't care. She wasn't going to let him affect her anymore.

She also decided not to think about the fact that no guy had ever made her feel so horrible—so angry, so furious, so _betrayed_—because he refused to shove away a very appealing woman who was flaunting herself and draped across him. She refused to think of it as a _betrayal_, because really—he had done nothing to betray her. It wasn't like she was with Kyo or anything—nor did she ever want to be with him, right?

It wasn't like she _liked_ him or anything.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Okuni's eyes flicked briefly over to the bedroom door as it shut, her serpentine smile still in place.

"Kyo, why do you not answer me?" she murmured in his ear, making sure that her lips gently brushed against him as she asked.

"If you're done with your childish antics, then please feel free to get off of me."

Okuni leaned back, shifting against him to spark friction on their legs. Her bottom lip came out in a perfect, sexy pout. "Don't you like me being on you like this?" Her hand roamed up his chest as she asked, her other hand trailing down his stomach to slip under his shirt.

"Also feel free to get your hands off of me," he tacked on thoughtlessly, unmoved.

Trying again, she scooted herself farther onto his lap, her knees digging into the back of the couch as she moved against him—

With what sounded like a growled sigh, Kyo promptly stood up. Okuni flopped ungracefully to the ground in a pile of arms and legs. She was still for a moment as she digested what had happened and then her head snapped toward him. Her dark eyes were wide and furious as they followed him.

Impassive as ever, he slipped into his kitchen and re-emerged several moments later with a drink. He didn't even glance at her as he reclaimed his seat, placed his glass on the table, flicked on the TV, and threw his arms over the back of the couch.

Okuni stood up and dusted herself off unnecessarily, acting as though nothing happened. She then sniffed pointedly. "Why did you turn it down?" she asked casually, slipping back onto Kyo's lap. "Now I can't hear it."

"You know full well why I turned it down." His eyes looked past her to watch the TV.

Okuni frowned and her eyes wandered over to Kyo's room again. Trying to build up atmosphere, she slipped her hands on his shoulders. "Which brings me back to my earlier point: What is she to you?"

Kyo chose to ignore her. Okuni's fingers curled, balling up the material of Kyo's shirt. "Are you ignoring me because you don't know—or because you don't want me to know?" Her voice was collected and cool, but inside she was screaming.

"If you barge in make a lot of noise, annoying me, do you really think I'm going to answer any questions?" Kyo's hard gaze met hers.

"When I came in—"

"—without even knocking," Kyo added for her.

"—I could _clearly_ see you carry that _girl_ to your bed."

"She's staying for a while," he told her simply, as though that was all the explanation that anyone would ever need in regards to that incident.

"Why isn't she sleeping on the couch then?" Okuni demanded, a little too sharply.

"I stay up late. I like to sit on my couch."

Okuni clenched her teeth, her jaw muscles tightening, as she bit back and swallowed her vicious retorts. They blistered her throat. "Well then," she purred, "I don't suppose that you would mind if _I_ stayed with you for a little bit since she can."

"I would mind, actually."

"And why is that, I wonder?" She leaned up towards Kyo, almost batting her eye lashes.

"I only have enough room here to have one guest at a time. Are you that blind that you can't see that for yourself?" A smirk curled his lips.

"Then when she leaves." Okuni leaned up so that her face was inches from Kyo's. Kyo's attention, however, remained on his television set. "I'll stay for a while when she leaves," she continued.

"No."

Okuni pouted. "And why not?"

"Who says she's leaving?" Kyo's reaction didn't change for a second. "She may be staying."

The woman on his lap paused. Then, with carefully measured words, she asked, "For how long?"

Kyo shrugged nonchalantly.

Okuni's heartbeat increased with her anger. "Kyo, what do you mean she may be staying?"

Kyo didn't answer.

"Stop toying with me," she ordered him, "and tell me how long that woman's going to be here."

Kyo remained silent once more, but his lips curled, smugly.

"Is that how it's going to be?" Okuni purred darkly, poison in her words. "Are you going to let some little girl in here and become your personal bitch?" She paused, and then added, "Is that why you call her _Dogface—_to remind the both of you that she's your bitch?"

Kyo's blood red eyes met her and she fell silent. Had he been any other man, Okuni would have worried that he was going to strike her for her bold and impertinent questions. But he was Kyo, and his pride didn't allow him to attack so thoughtlessly. It revealed his thoughts—something he would never allow.

Instead, in a voice as smooth and liquid as dark silk, he said, "Get out."

It didn't register at first what he said. When it did, she pouted. "Why? Did I touch a nerve?"

"I think it's time that you left." His eyes burned into her intensely, and it chilled her.

She sighed, feeling resigned, frustrated, and furious. "Fine. I'll leave, but I'll be back."

"You always are," Kyo muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Okuni's lips curved as she leaned up even farther, her lips centimeters from his. "I'll always be back," she assured him, closing the distance between their lips slowly; batting her lashes in what she thought was a sexy manner.

Kyo tilted his head slightly and continued to stare at her, effectively ruining her plan to kiss him. Okuni paused for a moment before smirking and pushing herself off of him abruptly, landing on her feet and sashaying away.

"I still want to pay a visit when that woman leaves," Okuni purred. Her eyes drifted back over to his bedroom door and she couldn't help but remember the scene she had walked in upon: Kyo, cradling that _girl_ in his arms tenderly, holding her close to him—if she had been awake, she would have heard his heartbeat. Not only that, but the way he looked at her as he carried her—like she was some sort of _prize_ or something. And then, to top it off, he gently placed her in his bed—even going so far as to make sure that her arms weren't tangled beneath her body and she was as comfortable as seemingly possible. Who the hell needed four blankets in autumn?

Not only _that_—Okuni's jaw clenched—but that damn woman would never even know what Kyo had done for her. Hell, Kyo was had been fairly irate when he noticed Okuni. And since when did Kyo not notice when people entered his apartment? He had always been on top of things like that—he always knew when someone was approaching his apartment complex, let alone walking into his home.

And yet, Okuni had had to make her presence known to make Kyo notice her. Granted, he was so used to her that he may have merely overlooked in subconsciously, but still. Was it that stupid woman that was causing Kyo to become so vulnerable?

Okuni opened the front door, her eyes narrowed. _You won't have him. You can't have him—you can't have Kyo,_ she told the sleeping woman silently, viciously. _I'll make sure of that. He's not yours to have. _

With that, she closed the door, much more loudly than necessary.

_Hope I didn't wake the princess,_ she murmured to herself, smirking, her mind full of sarcasm as she left.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) BFFL, for those of you who don't know messaging terms, is "best friend for life."

(2) In case there are any people who are bad at reading more literally, phonetically written words, Benitora was saying _Hey, 'sup? Who is it?_ (Because I know one person out there wasn't sure what he was saying. XD)

**Reignashii, **Blaze, **Chaotic Angel,** hikaru uteda, **Chickedy-pea, **The Spades Queen, **stela, **insane-dumbness, **midnight blue08, **Ren-stranger, **kyoandyuya, **Fluffy 1322, **chesire nii-nii**

_Thank you, thank you, thank you for your kind words! :) Seriously. It helped me write this chapter. XD_

_So how was this chapter, anyway? I think I really, really, really like writing Okuni-Kyo interactions like this. Annnnd I think she may make more appearances in the upcoming chapters. :)_

_Review and tell me how it was, and I will love you forever. Happy Thanksgiving, to all of you Americans! And for those of you who don't celebrate Thanksgiving, have a good Thursday. XD _

_Cioa!_


	12. Sacrifice on the Altar

_**Author's Notes: **__Things start rolling into motion in this chapter. I'm getting excited; this story is finally going to start _really_ taking off._

_**Disclaimer:**__I still admit that I don't own SDK. I'm still not admitting that Yukimura isn't mine. :3_

_**Title: **__Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 12: **__Sacrifice on the Altar_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya readied herself for class the next morning quietly, uncharacteristically so. She didn't bother to wait for Kyo to leave so they could walk to class together. Instead, she brushed past him, barely humming a "good morning," and left the apartment. She could feel his red gaze follow her to the door and she idly wondered if he was confused by her sudden curt attitude towards him.

_Let him wonder,_ she thought to herself, almost bitterly.

And with that, she trekked to the university's courtyard and glanced around curiously, searching for a friendly face. She spotted Kyoshiro not too far away, took a steadying breath, and bounced over to him.

_I'm glad that I got out,_ she assured herself, beaming at her friend as she greeted him. "Hey, loser. What are you doing here so early?"

Kyoshiro rolled his eyes. "What? I can't arrive _on time_ every now and then without suspicion?"

Yuya paused, scrutinizing her friend curiously. "Well, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence…"

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her neck, then pulled it up along her skull, leaving her with a nest of static electricity and tangled hair.

"I _just_ brushed that!" she protested shrilly, batting at him defensively.

And so Yuya and Kyoshiro tried to convince themselves that nothing was out of its natural revolution; that nothing was wrong, everything perfect; that they were fine with the new arrangements.

As Kyoshiro laughed at Yuya as she finger-combed her hair back into perfection and tied it back, he suddenly recalled something he hadn't thought of in a long time:

"Oh! It's Friday!"

Yuya looked at him pointedly. "Congratulations," she drawled, "how long did it take you to figure _that_ one out?"

"It's Friday," he repeated, ignoring her retort. "As in, today we figure out just which of the two of us is hotter!" With a huge grin, he held out a hand expectantly. "Come on, cough 'em up."

Yuya looked at him like lobsters had crawled out of his ears and were dancing about on his shoulders. "Say what now?"

"It's Friday," Kyoshiro said once more. "We agreed that the person with the most numbers would be declared—"

"—the best looking," Yuya finished for him, also suddenly remembering, eyes widening.

"And get a hot date to tonight's dance party," Kyoshiro tacked on, smiling wistfully.

"Alright!" Yuya declared, digging through her pockets. "Let's see what we've got here. Or did you did you not manage to scrounge up a single number?"

Smirking, Kyoshiro fished through his pocket. "Yeah, right, prepare to lose!"

And they both held out their loot, both of them eyeing up the other's pile.

"S'all you got?" Yuya asked, a little dubious.

"Yep… s'all _you_ got?"

"Yep."

A pause as they both looked down at their single number.

"So we're tied?" Kyoshiro clarified.

"Yep!" Yuya laughed. "So we're either equal in hotness, or we suck with the opposite sex."

"Well… the party isn't until 8:30 tonight. We could extend the dead line until later tonight and try and find some more people," Kyoshiro offered.

"Alright," Yuya conceded. "Prepare to lose!"

And then quite suddenly another realization dawned on her.

"Crap!" she hissed. "That project-thing is due next week! That… weird 'project partner' project."

Her friend's expression darkened considerably. "I've honestly no idea how I'm going to do anything on the project with _him_.

Yuya tilted her head curiously. "What did he do that you hate him so much? I know you're brothers and all, and brothers tend to show tough love, but sheesh!"

A small, dark smile curved Kyoshiro's lips. "Maybe you should ask _Kyo_ that question… see how much he's willing to tell you."

Yuya shrank a little. "Oh… kay? Anyway!" She brightened, changing the subject. "Where's Yukimura? We have our own project to work on—"

"Yuya-sama!" Benitora popped out of no where to clasp Yuya's hand. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Just since yesterday…" Was that really that long?

"I know! Eons! Anyway, I had a question for you. See, last night I got a call from someone but I guess we got disconnected or something…"

Uh oh.

"That wasn't _you_ was it, Yuya-sama?" Hope shimmered in his eyes; an ocean of emotion crashed behind him. His eyes were begging him to assure him that it was, indeed, her who called.

"I'm sorry, Benitora. I didn't get a chance to call you last night—"

And just like that, Benitora fell into the ocean that had earlier crashed behind him. He sank down, down, down, down, down into its cold, cruel depths, allowing the currents to beat and batter his body…

"I was busy with a project… and, um… other things…" Yuya drifted off as she watched Benitora beat himself up. Since when could he summon a whole body of water like that? "But… um," she bravely continued, hoping that Benitora wouldn't drown, "I'm sure I'll have a chance to call over the weekend…"

A single ray of sunlight persistently dove down into the murky depths that Benitora had sank to, offering a ray of hope. "R- Really?" he gurgled from the watery depths.

"Yeah," she assured, glad that he was no longer comically strangling himself in woe.

And just like that, the sea roared away, the tide changing. Benitora's feet hit the ground and he puffed out his chest, putting his hand on his hips victoriously. "Alright, then! I eagerly await this call!"

"Good. Um, but now I'm off. Got some classes to catch. I'll talk to you later!" she called as she snatched Kyoshiro and dragged him away, taking the first excuse possible to be on her way.

"He's, uh, unique, ain't he?" Kyoshiro stage-whispered once they were out of Benitora's earshot.

Emerald eyes shot him a look. " 'Unique' doesn't cover it."

"And crazy," Kyoshiro added. "Who in their right mind grows obsessed with _you_?"

Many people paused in their day-to-day comings and goings to look around curiously when a loud, fleshy _smack!_ echoed throughout the courtyard and a dazed Kyoshiro fell to the ground, drooling.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Much to her chagrin, Yukimura didn't make an appearance at their first class. As such, Yuya spent her lunch time running around, trying to accomplish several goals—tracking both Yukimura and any male in a five-mile radius that she had a semblance of an acquaintance with.

She prowled the streets far and wide, taking a second to give a friendly and courteous nod to an old man playing chess with himself. He stared after her blankly for a second with his one eye before lifting a cane and swearing after her about… something.

Moving on, she scanned the area around her and turned a corner, kept walking, gave a returning nod to a small child who smiled at her as he jumped rope. She trudged past him, her eyes still adamantly searching out for any familiar men (and Yukimura), and turned another corner. Kept going. Paused to walk around a huddle of children who were playing hopscotch. Turned another corner. Kept going. Hurried along down the road as a tiny, leashed Chihuahua-looking dog yapped loudly and growled as she passed. Turned another corner. Gave another salute to Mr. One-Eyed-Chess-Player. Turned the corner. Kept going. Nodded at the jump roper. Kept going. Went around the hopscotchers. Turned a corner. Scurried past the yappy dog. Kept walking. Another nod to Mr. One-Eyed-Schizophrenic-Chess-Player…

However, after twenty minutes, the closest that she got to Yukimura was spotting his two cronies (Saizo and Sasuke) lurking around suspiciously, and the closest thing she got to a male that she actually knew was Kyo (who she had literally ran into as she grew more frantic in her search).

The cronies had actually been a welcome sight compared to the turmoil of emotions which she found herself rolling in at the sight of Kyo. However, she was a Shiina—Shiina Yuya, to be exact!—and thus, she had too much pride to stick her tongue out at the idiot, turn on her heel, and march off like she very-much-so wanted to. Instead, she greeted him as politely as she could manage.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Narrowed eyes gave him a once over.

Kyo decided such a stupid question didn't deserve a straight answer and gestured by looking over to his left. Yuya followed his gaze and—holy cow, would you look at that!—right there was the café that Kyo and she had taken up the habit of frequenting every day for lunch.

All this time, had she been wandering the same block—around that freaking _café_, moreover? She mentally took the roll of memories that her mind had stored away and rewound them, frantically replaying any faces and places that she remembered seeing in the background as she travelled far and wide in search of her sought-after men…

… and found that she hadn't left this very block for the past eighteen minutes of her twenty minutes of searching.

Well, what the hell was wrong with that picture?

_No wonder I couldn't find Yukimura,_ she hissed to herself, kicking herself for being so oblivious.

Mr. One-Eyed-Schizophrenic-and-Explosive-Chess-Player turned in his seat not-too-far away to gaze at her seriously with his one eye.

"Are you going to go inside, or not?" Kyo broke into her reverie.

"I'll go somewhere else and eat on my own, thank you very much," Yuya clipped.

A slow smirk curved Kyo's lips. "What, are you going to go over there and enjoy a meal with your first-class chess player?"

"What if I do?" she protested, but she could feel her resolve grudgingly crumbling the more he spoke.

Kyo started towards the entrance towards the little restaurant. "I'm sure he has a winning personality. I'm quite close to going over and having a meal with him myself. However, you still haven't answered my question: Are you coming in?"

Though she was sure she was going to regret it, she followed him inside. They chose a booth near the window. Their drinks arrived and the waiter left with their order.

Yuya fiddled with her fingers, not entirely sure what to say. She still felt a little bitter towards Kyo for lying to her about Okuni (_just friends, my _ass_, _she kept thinking), and also felt immature for acting the way she was. It really wasn't her business what Kyo did; they were just temporary sort-of roommates.

Why did Kyo let her stay with him, anyway? Why did he lie about Okuni? Gods, so many questions without answers…

Yuya suddenly decided that Kyo owed her for lying like he did, cleared her throat, and asked, "Hey, can I have your number?"

A slender dark brow rose, but aside from the motion, Kyo remained unmoved. "No."

Yuya deflated in surprise, then puffed out her chest again in indignation. "What do you _mean_ 'no'?"

"I mean just that," Kyo patiently explained, his tone suggesting he was talking to a persistently stupid child. "No."

Yuya's jaw muscles slackened. She stared at Kyo for several seconds, speechless. Then she found her voice again and spluttered, "You're _shitting_ me!"

"Such lady-like language," he commented, eyes gleaming with humor.

"No," Yuya said firmly. "I don't _give_ a damn. I'll reiterate: you're _shitting_ me! I'm _living_ with you temporarily and you—"

"What?" The humor in his eyes glimmered again and his smirk grew amused. "Are you that desperate for my number? Why, I didn't know that you cared so much for me."

Instantly, her cheeks flamed, blood pooling in her cheeks and leaving them a bright red. "Ass," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

A roll of sound over Kyo's vocal chords birthed a low, rumbling chuckle. The sound caused Yuya to pause; she had never heard Kyo make such a noise. It was a low, guttural noise. It was a deep rumble. It reminded Yuya of something that she couldn't kind put her finger on.

She quite liked it.

It left an odd hum in her ears that wasn't displeasing. She didn't want to speak, lest the sensation leave her. However, it was neither her nor Kyo who broke the feeling.

It was the waiter.

"Here you are. It's piping hot, so mind your fingers. Refill on that tea, hon?" Their plates were delivered before them and their cups were taken momentarily, then returned, filled to the brim.

Once the waiter was out of sight, Yuya reached across the table and quickly snitched a bite off of Kyo's plate. His crimson eyes followed her movements, his expression unamused. "Your table manners are appalling," he smoothly informed her, watching her chew.

"_Mmm,_" she hummed. "That's _really_ good. You always do pick out the winners." Her eyes closed, she concentrated on savoring the rich taste that flavored her palate, she swirled her tongue around her gums and teeth, and when every trace of Kyo's lunch was gone from her mouth, she opened her eyes and looked down at her own plate. And… how odd, there was definitely a portion of chicken missing from her plate.

Yuya blinked and frowned thoughtfully, then glanced up at Kyo to comment. The words never passed through her lips. Instead, she stared at Kyo quietly. Kyo, who was sitting across from her, leaning on a supporting palm, his other arm level with his mouth, supported by an elbow which was resting on the table, a small bite of his lunch hanging from a fork just as precariously as the fork dangled in Kyo's fingers. Kyo, who was momentarily distracted by something outside the window, his eyes tracing the contours of the street outside lazily. Kyo, who was slowly chewing a bite of what Yuya would bet was the bite of chicken that she was missing from her plate.

Yuya shook her head at him, wonderingly. "But are my table manners the only ones which are appalling?" she asked Kyo, finally responding to his earlier critique.

The meal was spent in relative congeniality. When they finished, the waiter left the check and carried on his way. Kyo gave the paper a once-over.

"I have some money towards it," Yuya informed him and started to dig through her shoulder bag.

"Don't worry about this," Kyo told her. He picked up the napkin that was next to him and offered it to her. She took it, confused, and waited for him to explain, "You need to wipe your mouth. You're such a mess."

And then he pulled out a crisp paper bill out of seemingly nowhere and tucked both it and the check into the dark black, leather folder and dropped it on the table. And then he got up to leave.

Yuya's jaw dropped a little. "There is _nothing_ on my— You're one of the _rudest_—!" She cut herself off when she noticed that he was too far to hear her. Instead, she took a deep breath—and then noticed that there was something dark already on the napkin.

"Did you _use _this napkin, just top it all—?"

She cut herself off when she unfurled the napkin and saw just what it was soiled with. She stared down at it for several seconds to make sure that she wasn't seeing things—she wouldn't put it past her luck at that point—but no. It was real, not a hallucination.

There, written in Kyo's scrawl, were the digits of his phone number.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He crawled forward a few inches. His cold eyes scanned the small area in front of him, on the look out for the elder man.

"Target spotted," he reported into the small electrical device that curved around his ear, eyes locking securely onto the man indicated.

The radio on his ear crackled for a second, and then a voice snarled, in a voice as cold and mirthless as the Devil himself, "Pinch the thyme." (1)

Without responding, he felt out the trigger, all cool metal and power. He would have preferred to run in and slice everything into bloody ribbons, but he had his orders. Adrenaline pumped though his veins and he could feel the _power_ of the situation surge through his veins. _This _was his favorite moment—knowing that the destiny of that one person lay fully in his hands, his decisions, his control. Mercy, no mercy? Let him live, tear him down? Mercy, no mercy?

The muffler made the shot sound like a breathless snort rather than the thunderous crack that it was supposed to be. The man fell like an anchor.

He had always been a dead shot.

No mercy today.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yuya raced after Kyo and caught up with him outside the restaurant. She peered up at him silently, her expression searching. Kyo noticed the attention and glanced down at her, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"What?"

Yuya smiled, then. A soft smile that brought warmth to her entire being; it made the creamy skin on her cheeks to soften; it caused mirth to crackle in her emerald eyes; it caused her expression to take on a semblance of a blissfully ecstatic child; it even made her honey-gold hair seem even more luscious. "You're not such a bad guy," she breathed, just loud enough for him to hear.

Kyo's reaction was to flash his infamous smirk. "Is that what you really think?" His dark, velvety voice seemed almost secretly sinister, the voice a wolf uses to coax a lamb away from the herd.

Yuya hesitated, and when she answered, she was surprised at how honestly she answered: "I don't know _what_ to think about you anymore…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Still, Yukimura didn't make an appearance in any of his afternoon classes, and late that afternoon, after finishing all of her classes for the day, she started to grow a little worried. Kyoshiro assured her that he had seen him that morning at the apartment, but that did nothing but make Yuya wonder more.

"What if he got drunk on his sake and fell into a gutter and died?"

"He didn't die, Yuya," Kyoshiro would assure her. "He's a big boy."

"What if someone _kidnapped_ him—like one of his crazy, rabid fan-girls—and now he's stuck in their clutches with no hopes of escape?"

"Saizo and Sasuke would know if anything happened to him," Kyoshiro would assure her. "And you said you saw them around today. He's fine."

"What if he was brain-washed by crazy mutants and—"

"There is no such thing," Kyoshiro would assure, not allowing her to even finish the thought. "You should focus less on his problems and more on your own."

"Fine," Yuya pouted before instantly brightening. "Oh, yeah, Kyoshiro, where are those numbers? Time to cough up."

"No way, you own up first," Kyoshiro protested.

"Oh, fine, you big baby. We'll do this together. Ready? Alright, one… two… three!"

Like they had earlier, they both pulled out their numbers simultaneously, all the while focusing on the other's pile. Upon seeing the spoils, Yuya's chest puffed up.

"Ha!" she cheered. "I win! You didn't get a single number!"

"But I sure did get a lot of slaps," he grumbled, more to himself.

"Those don't count," Yuya reminded him, checking out his single number. "Who's Sakuya?"

"Benitora?" Kyoshiro said at the same time. "You got your _stalker's_ number? Isn't that a little desperate?"

"Oh, you're one to talk. You're just a sore loser." Yuya rolled her eyes.

Kyoshiro looked at the other number—the one scrawled across the napkin. "Whose is this?"

"Kyo's. I'm surprised you don't know it."

"Wait a second!" Kyoshiro exploded. "He doesn't count! Mistrial! I call a mistrial! We're tied!"

Yuya blinked. "Mistrial? This wasn't a court case, it was a bet!" She snatched back the napkin. "And _yes_, he does so count. Stop being a sore loser. I win."

"He doesn't count," Kyoshiro repeated stubbornly. "He doesn't count for _anything_. You're staying with him"—it seemed to Yuya that it was pretty hard for him to say those words without snarling—"and so he doesn't count. It wouldn't count if you got my number!"

"You're my adversary in the competition," she dismissed simply, waving her hand in the same sort of motion that's used to shoo flies. "It wouldn't count if I got your number because you're the enemy… that, and I already _have_ your number."

Kyoshiro kept blathering on about how it was a tie, but Yuya wasn't listening anymore. "So, who are _you_ taking to the dance tonight?" she teased. "That Sakuya chick, or this Sakuya girl I've heard you speak so highly of?"

"Oh, ha ha, you're so funny." Kyoshiro was not amused. "We'll see who's laughing tonight. Let's see who can snag the hottest date—me with Sakuya, or you with your Benitora or Kyo. I'd be worried if I were you."

"Oh, very well, I'll play along with you since you're a sore loser," Yuya agreed.

After a pause, Kyoshiro asked grudgingly (afraid of the answer), "Who _are_ you going to ask—Benitora or Kyo?"

"Now why would I release such classified information to the enemy?" she teased. "Just come tonight and see for yourself." With that, she gave him a farewell salute and headed off.

_Who _am_ I bringing?_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Okuni, how many times do I have to tell you not to come into my apartment unwanted?" Kyo took a swig of his sake. It was the weekend and all he wanted to do was enjoy it. Entertaining Okuni was not what he considered enjoyable. She was one hell of a house guest.

"Oh, Kyo, I'm overjoyed to see you, too." Okuni crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, standing only a few inches away from Kyo. "I'm actually here to ask you something."

"No. Now get out. I'm busy this weekend." Another swig.

"But you haven't even heard the question yet," Okuni protested smoothly.

"And I don't really want to hear it. Feel free to leave at any time now." His hard eyes met hers to show her just how serious he was.

"What if I was going to ask you if you if were still going to let that girl stay here? Would you still answer no?" Okuni's eyes gleamed as she teased him, though whether with mirth or menace was unknown.

"No," Kyo firmly answered. "Stop your damn childish games. I'm not in the mood for them."

"Fine, I'll get to my point." She pouted at his impatient tone, feigning hurt feelings. "There's a party tonight. I know you can spare a few hours to go out and enjoy yourself. You should go with me."

"And what makes you think I would?" Kyo raised a brow at her doubtfully.

"It's at a young club. There'll be plenty of young women for you to appreciate and gallons of alcohol." Okuni seemed fairly certain that she would persuade him.

"I mean," Kyo clarified, smirking, "what makes you think I should go with _you_?"

Okuni hadn't seemed to expect that to be his comeback. "We've gone out like this before," she reminded him. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as something occurred. "Are you going then—with someone else?"

"If I went, it wouldn't be with you," he assured.

"So then"—Okuni's voice was dark poison as she moved in closer to him, almost wrapping herself around him like a snake prepared to strangle its prey—"who _would_ you want to go with?"

"I don't think that's any of your business." The smirk that he gave her… it was answer enough. He was playing with her. He was referring to _her_.

"That woman," Okuni hissed near his shoulder. "You prefer her company to mine?"

"I prefer anyone's company to yours at this time," Kyo answered her crisply. "You're turning into a nuisance."

"A nuisance," Okuni breathed. "That's not what you used to think—"

She heard someone grab the handle of the front door and she reacted on impulse. "You used go out and do things with me," she whispered, and then pushed herself up on her toes (Kyo was exceedingly tall, she noted, even when she was in heels he had a few inches over her).

Their lips clashed for several brief seconds; Okuni grabbed the front of Kyo's shirt and tried to drag him down to lengthen the kiss, her lips moving against his.

That was when the door swung open. A sharply inhaled gasp of surprise, and then the gentle _thump_ as something hit the ground, and then the sound of footsteps hurriedly walking in a different direction.

Kyo finally untangled himself from Okuni and pried her off of himself. "You really do enjoy playing the vixen," he gritted out between his teeth. She was _really_ getting annoying; if there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was annoying.

"I guess she didn't appreciate the show," Okuni hummed to him, her eyes slipping over to the door.

Kyo's crimson eyes followed her gaze and saw a forgotten shoulder bag sitting in the frame of the door, keeping the door from closing. The shoulder bag was, indeed, Yuya's.

"Get out," Kyo crisply ordered Okuni. He then slumped onto his couch, propped up his feet, and flipped on the TV. "I'm not going anywhere with you tonight."

Okuni sighed at the defeat and silently left. However, as she passed through the door, she used one of her heels to kick the bag outside of the apartment and out of her way ungracefully. Some of the contents of the bag spilled out, and Okuni couldn't stop the triumphant smirk from blossoming on her face as the door clicked shut behind her.

The trip hadn't been a _complete_ failure, after all.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He moved in the shadows, adjusting himself in his chair so that he could better see the men.

"It is done?" His loud voice rumbled throughout the room like a god's, absolute and unquestionable.

"Yes," one of the men answered, bowing his head. "Just as you wanted."

The muscles of his mouth twisted up into a nasty grin. "And the girl?"

"Tonight," another of the men assured.

His vocal chords rolled in a sinister chuckle. The sound would have made anyone shudder. "Good. Carry on as planned, then."

The men separated, each off in a different direction, each to accomplish his own task.

"Tonight then," he mused aloud, then gave another chuckle, this one much louder and menacing. "Tonight Kyo will start to understand the meaning of Hell."

He then addressed several women who lounged about the room. "Why haven't you started dancing again yet? The meeting is over," he growled, his voice promising misery to any who didn't bend to his wishes.

The women jumped to their feet, nimble as cats. Some held simple instruments—zils, tambourines—a few others joined in with soft, wordless singing, and still others simply swayed their bodies to the rhythms.

He could barely contain his excitement as he watched the exotic show. _Tonight. The fun begins tonight._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) Pinch the thyme: In some sacrificial religions, it wasn't uncommon to have the person offering a sacrifice to burn a pinch of some herb or spice to go along with the sacrifice, just to show extra dedication.

Thanks to reviewers:

**Midnight blue08,** Reignashii, **kyoandyuya,** Ren-stranger, **stela,** Fluffy1322, **chesire nii-nii,** chickedy-pea, 

_Things are going to start rolling now. Gotta get the actual story going, right? Yeah, well, it's time for that shiz. _

_And for anyone who doesn't know, _United State of Pop 2010 (Blame the Pop) _was released! Check it out. It's pretty good (just like the 2009 version). It's what helped me pump out this chapter. _

_Huge thanks to ArcticFire for editing. :)_


	13. No Thorn Without a Rose

_**Author's Notes: **So there's fluffish type stuff in this chapter, but not between who you're expecting. :/_

_**Disclaimer: **__I am officially in debt… That means I _owe_ money. If I owned the copyright, don't you think I'd _charge_ you freeloaders to read my oh-so glorious works?_

_**Title: **Fallen for You_

_**Chapter 13:** No Thorn Without a Rose_

Yuya, as dictated by law, was not a fan of repetitiveness. She never liked literature that tried to _make a point_ by using the same phrase or idea repeatedly; she thought that was simply a lazy way to lengthen a novel. She disliked songs that were basically the same line over and over again; it showed that the artist lacked any true talent. She disliked having a catchphrase; it was why she broke Kyoshiro of the annoying habit when they were younger. Hell, she even grew slightly annoyed when she saw the same road sign frequently appear one after the other on the side of the road (yes, there's a speed limit; a sign every five minutes isn't necessary to remind drivers of that fact—that's what speeding tickets were for!).

And yet, despite this fact, Yuya's thoughts were a broken record, skipping and repeating the same thing non-stop:

_I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I really don't care. I don't care. I don't care._

Something akin to shock coursed through her. That, and something much more dangerous—something that felt hot and messy. It was something that Yuya didn't want to stop and take the time to identify. With how unstable her emotions were acting lately, she didn't trust whatever it was that she was feeling. It felt too hot—a white-hot charcoal—and it made her feel restless. Her skin was suddenly too small, too tight.

_I don't care. I don't care. I really don't care. _

So what if Okuni had kissed Kyo? Or Kyo had kissed Okuni or whoever-the-hell had kissed whoever-the-hell? What did it matter to her? He was a roommate, nothing more than that. His business was nothing to her. _He _meant nothing to her. Right?

_I don't care. I don't care. Gods, I don't care. _

She stumbled into the familiar apartment with the grace of an autistic duckling and barely managed to make it over to the couch before crashing down, burying her face in the stretchy denim of her jeans. Tears tore their way to her eyelashes, small, razor-sharp pinpricks, but she held the floodgates shut and refused to let any of them fall. There was no reason to cry! Kyo certainly wasn't worth her tears. Besides that, she had no reason to be upset. Right?

_Gods, I don't care._

She took a steadying breath and closed her eyes, willing her tears to be absorbed back into her tear ducts like a parched sponge hungrily absorbs water.

"Yuya?"

Her head popped up and she barely managed to smile. "Well, who else would I be, idiot?"

_I don't care._

Kyoshiro rubbed at one of his eyes and yawned, his earlier confused and shaken expression washed away at her response. "Who the hell knows, man? With all these burglaries happening, can't be too sure. My own mother could show up and try and steal something."

Yuya rolled her eyes. "Your mother is dead."

"Exactly! But the burglars don't know that!" Kyoshiro crossed his arms and nodded, to emphasize his point in some way.

"Kyoshiro?"

"Hm?"

_I really don't care._

"Stick to your day job. Your logic rivals that of a dead gnat."

Kyoshiro looked contemplative. "I feel like you're trying to tell me something, but I can't quite figure out what…"

"_Anyway_, Sleeping Beauty, can I borrow your phone?"

"Hey, you woke me up! I was taking a beauty nap! Gotta look my best tonight, ya know." He winked at her playfully.

"Of course I know," Yuya assured dryly. "Now about that phone?"

"Geez, don't you have yours?" he complained, but started digging in his pocket nonetheless.

"It's charging," she informed him curtly, taking his phone from him and leaning back in the soft couch. Her phone dug into her bottom from her rear pocket as she punched in the digits to Benitora's number. She ignored the hard jabs to her rear and waited for the line to connect. There was no way she was going to admit to Benitora that she had been the prank call the previous night. There was even less of a chance she was going to admit that she lied to him about the matter. There was an even smaller chance she was going to admit as much to Kyoshiro.

"Hello?"

The idiot would never let her live it down.

"Hey." Yuya took a long strand of her hair and twirled it absentmindedly. "It's—"

"Yuya-san!"

"A little snob. Who is torturing me—her supposed _best friend_—with sleep deprivation _and _stealing my phone," Kyoshiro grumbled from somewhere behind her at the same time as Benitora.

Yuya waved her hand over her shoulder—shush, I'm on the phone you idiot—to quietly encourage him to kindly remain silent.

"Who was that?" Even though he wasn't there, Yuya could see the confused frown in Benitora's tone that came complete with a wrinkled brow.

Kyoshiro crossed his arms huffily. "I reserve the right to interject into your conversations as I please! It came with the certificate I have declaring me your best friend!"

"Just Kyoshiro." Yuya answered, ignoring him and shooting a scathing glance over her shoulder. Her best friend could hear the silent but nonetheless present _who needs to SHUT UP now, please and thank you._

"Really!" he continued, trying to sound unfazed. "It's in the small print!" Yuya shot him another dangerous glance and, for some strange and unfathomable reason, he desperately struggled to remember if he had ever signed up with that life insurance company—the one that promised that his funeral costs would in no way be passed along to his family members. "Although… the small print _was_ a little small," he tacked on, his voice becoming weaker and weaker with every syllable. "So small, in fact, that maybe it isn't even there…"

Yuya didn't still carry that gun__with her, did she?

"So, yeah, I'll just sit here… skulking silently… and not at all feeling like an abused, kicked puppy…" Kyoshiro assured Yuya, pouting as he plopped down on the couch next to her.

Yuya cast him one final look. "I'm sorry, Benitora. This three-year-old here was too loud for me to catch what you were saying."

Benitora was too hyped up that he had actually finally received a call from Yuya to take anything to heart. "Oh, that's fine! I'd recite the Guru Granth Sahib (1) forty times over if it made you happy!"

Yuya blinked. "I'm sorry—the Guru Gra-who what-y?"

Benitora didn't seem to hear her confusion. "So what is it that you wanted?"

"Oh. Um—"

What did she call about again? Yuya rooted through her mental to-do list.

Get married—no, Benitora wasn't any help for that one.

Become rich and famous—well, Benitora sure wasn't going to help her gain any progress for that one, either.

Die happy and painlessly (preferably in her sleep)—nope; not unless she planned on asking Benitora to suffocate her as she slept after she attained goals one and two.

"Yuya," Kyoshiro whined beside her as he shifted his position, "you're wasting _all _of my minutes. Those are expensive, you know." Apparently uncomfortable with the way he had been sitting, he turned so that he lying across the couch, his legs sprawled out in front of him over the arm of the furniture. His back was on Yuya's arm, leaning on her for support.

Yuya gave him another dark look. Kyoshiro grumbled under his breath about it not being his fault that she was more comfortable to lie on. His companion decided to ignore him and continued through her mental checklist.

Kill Kyoshiro as painfully and messily as possibly, hopefully involving some rat poison, a pair of tweezers, and maybe (if Kyoshiro was very, very lucky) some Mountain Dew—but no, Benitora was too weak of an accomplice. He might crumble under the pressure and spill everything to the authorities.

What about that goal of making Kyo jealous—

"Yuya-san? Are you still there? You've been silent for a while."

Hold the phone. When did Kyo become involved? And why the hell was he on her checklist?

Yuya cleared her throat. "Yeah, just got distracted again."

And why would she ever want to make that brute _jealous_, of all things?

"Oh, alright. Well, what was it that you wanted?"

Yes, what _did_ she want? Despite trying to convince herself otherwise, she had a feeling deep, deep down that it had _something_ to do with Kyo…

Oh. Right. He and Okuni had been trying to feel each other's throats with their tongues just moments before.

"I was going to ask if you had heard about that party tonight."

Bile rose in her throat as the memory rose in her mind, playing and replaying like a broken record, and she couldn't make it stop no matter how hard she tried. Instead, she watched as Okuni's eyes fluttered shut and she pushed herself up against Kyo, her hand braced against the skin of Kyo's abdomen (which was more than likely warm and firm to the touch) and her lips meeting Kyo's in what was going to be an extremely passionate kiss and Kyo not moving, not shoving her away, not even _backing up_ and, hell, maybe _enjoying_ it and—

"Of course I heard about it," Benitora assured her, his tone suggesting that any tongue that said otherwise should be scorched and possibly drawn and quartered. Not only that, but he also sounded hopeful.

Yuya had to take a deep breath and close her eyes to steady herself. She suddenly felt dizzy, and she wasn't even standing. However, closing her eyes simply made the image of Okuni and Kyo sear more brightly on the dark screen of her closed eye lids and she snapped them open.

Yuya was about to grit out her question when—

"You think there's any way you'd be able to go with me?"

—Benitora beat her to it.

"I'd like that," she murmured. She sucked in her lips and clenched them between her teeth to keep herself from taking it back.

"Great. I'll come by later to pick you up, okay?" His excitement was more than obvious. He was a puppy who found a whole stash of hidden T-bone steaks.

"That's fine." Did she sound strained?

"Yuya-san"—Benitora hesitated a moment, just a heart beat, before softening his voice—"are you alright?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed. Her lips were still tucked between her teeth and she bit down on them, hoping that the physical pain would distract her from what she had witnessed between Okuni and Kyo not long before.

"Alright," Benitora responded from the other line after a pause, another heart beat, but just long enough to convey to her that he didn't believe her. "Then I'll see you in a little?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed again, and the vibrations of her response slid down her neck, starting an icy, burning fire in her throat that stung her like white-hot needles.

"See you then!" Benitora chirped, disconnecting the call.

Yuya flipped the cell phone shut and took a deep breath to steady herself. It came in ragged and shaky. Not only that, but the sensation of stinging needles had spread from her throat and assaulted her eyes, razor-sharp pinpricks that forced her tear ducts into action once more.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly full of spit that was thick and slimy. The images wouldn't leave her alone—dammit, they wouldn't leave her _alone_!—and all she wanted was to curl up and die. At least then she wouldn't have to watch as—as—

Yuya turned so that she was also sitting longways across the couch in the same fashion that Kyoshiro was. They were back to back, leaning against the other for support, skin against skin with only their shirts keeping them two separate beings, heartbeat throbbing against heartbeat. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, their chests swelling and falling, pressing against the other. It was odd for Kyoshiro to be so silent.

Yuya's chin wobbled and the muscles of her back trembled. She could feel hot liquid swelling, building up on her eyes. The only thing that kept her cheeks dry was the water tension between her eyelashes and tears. She gritted her teeth and willed her eyes to soak up the excess liquid and for her tear ducts to stop acting up.

_He's not worth getting upset,_ she tried so hard to convince herself. Her brain agreed wholeheartedly: he was a jerkface who liked to torment the female species.

It was her eyes and her aching chest that told her otherwise… stupid, traitorous eyes and heart. Well, who needed them, anyway? If her eyes were only to make her cry, and her heart make her hurt so much, why not just expunge them? They were unnecessary, anyway.

She continued to tremble all over, uncontrollably, and it was then that Kyoshiro turned and gently pulled her into him, pressing her against his chest. He had remained silent, observant, waiting.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, genuine concern turning his voice.

Yuya relaxed against him, her body molding to fit against his. Kyoshiro pushed his legs around her so that she was in a full cocoon comprised of him. His arms looped around her waist loosely, holding her against him.

Yuya turned her head and pushed her face into the material of his shirt. Her eyes closed, trying to block everything out, but once more, the memory of Okuni reaching in for a kiss from Kyo played behind her closed eyes. As if that wasn't enough, the movement of her eyelids closing forced out the liquid that had been gathering on the rim of her eyelashes, and large drops fell to her cheeks, skimming over her skin and leaving streaks in their wake.

"Yuya, what's wrong?" Kyoshiro asked again, his tone gentle and imploring. He placed a hand under her chin and raised her face. Her brilliant green eyes met his blue and he wiped away her runaway tears with the pad of his thumb.

She shook her head, breaking the eye contact and sucking in her bottom lip again.

"Something's wrong," he persisted. "Tell me what it is." He tucked a stray strand of her honey-gold tresses behind her ear.

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice shaking from her hurt and frustration. And then she buried her face into Kyoshiro's shirt.

Just like that, Kyoshiro understood. He knew—he knew that his pathetic sibling had done something to upset her and upset her good. His teeth clenched, both at having to admit that he was related to such an animal and because the beast had upset Yuya so much.

And despite the fact that he knew that Yuya wasn't going to play tattle-tale, despite knowing that she wasn't going to admit anything, he found himself asking anyway: "What did he do?"

Yuya silently shook her head again, her face moving against his shirt that covered his chest. She could hear the rage that bubbled in Kyoshiro. She heard it in the tremor of his voice. She swore she could also feel his muscles tense beneath her and his skin heat up from his fury.

"Are you still going to stay with him?"

Yuya almost winced. His voice was accusatory, even if he didn't mean for it to be. "I don't know," she murmured against him, her words muffled.

"That's why you're here." It wasn't a question.

Yuya's silence was answer enough.

_And that's why you're going to the dance with Benitora._ He didn't verbally communicate his last thought, didn't want to upset her more, but he knew it was true. And for some reason, he grew angry at the idea that Yuya might be trying to make Kyo jealous. He wasn't sure, however, if he was angry at her or himself.

For a long time, he sat with Yuya cradled against him, smoothing her hair and murmuring in her ear. When she finally sat back, calmed down, Kyoshiro allowed his anger to resurface. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't go near Kyo again—that she should move back in and never talk to the asshole again. He wanted to remind her that he had warned her from the beginning to stay away and leave Kyo alone. He wanted to ask what it was, exactly, that his brother had done.

Instead, he stretched and yawned. "You woke me up," he whined. "How cruel can a girl get?" Cue pouting.

Yuya rolled her eyes. "Here's your cell phone, retard." His forgotten mobile phone then flew threw the air and bounced off his head.

"Owww," Kyoshiro whined, rubbing the spot. "What was that for?"

"For distracting me on the phone. And quit being such a baby. I didn't throw it that hard. It barely hit you." She stuck her tongue out playfully before bouncing away to the bedroom that had been hers just a few days before.

"That's what you think," Kyoshiro grumbled. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"I think I left some clothes here. I can just wear them for tonight," she called back.

"Why bother dressing up?" Kyoshiro questioned. "No matter what, he's going to take one look at you and realize that he must have been smoking something when he asked you out tonight and head for the—ack!"

He barely dodged the heavy paperweight that came flying his way.

"_What _did you just say?"

Kyoshiro trembled from behind his fortress of the couch. "Nothing, Yuya!"

"That's what I thought," she remarked from inside the bedroom.

Just like that, things returned to normal.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Do you think he's just going to show up, or should I call again?" Yuya's brow crinkled in thought and she tapped her chin at the prospect of a decision.

Kyoshiro, flopped ungracefully across the couch with one arm over his eyes, shrugged uncaringly. "Eh, just wait and see how things turn out," he suggested.

Yuya rolled her eyes. "You'd miss your own funeral if you had to get there yourself. Anyone who asks you for advice must have some sort of cognitive problem."

"Cognitive… sounds fancy." Kyoshiro's brow furrowed in thought. "Does that mean they have a problem with their body?"

Yuya shook her head. "You just proved my point, you dunce."

"… Then why did you even bother asking in the first place?"

Yuya frowned at him and put her hands on her hips. "Don't question me!"

" 'Course, 'course," Kyoshiro assured her, waving the his hand lazily in the air above his head as though he could physically shoo away such a crazy idea.

There was a breath's pause.

"So… should I call?" Yuya's brow crinkled again and she crossed her arms, her bright eyes flicking to the roof and searching it, as though there was going to be some hidden message imprinted on it somewhere with all the answers to life.

Oh, if only it worked that way, with everything she would ever need to get through life encoded on her roof…

Luckily, Yuya didn't need to start turning to her roof for advice on life; instead, Kyoshiro's phone rang. He gave a long suffering-sigh at the idea of actually _moving_ and reached into his pocket to retrieve it. He glanced at the number and held it out in Yuya's general direction.

"I think it's your lover-boy," he explained. "I don't recognize the number."

Yuya snatched the phone and hastily accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Yuya-san, hey! I'm just calling to say I'm on my way. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Alright. I'm all ready, so it's no problem."

"Then I'll see you soon."

"Alright. Bye."

Yuya closed the phone and tossed it back to Kyoshiro. He grumbled when it bounced off his elbow.

"You're trying to kill me, I swear," he whined.

"Oh, ha ha. I didn't throw it that hard, you wimp. Anyway, shouldn't you be picking up that Sakuya girl? I'm dying to meet her. It's crazy that someone might actually be taking an interest in you—" She cut herself off to duck. Kyoshiro's cell phone flew over her head, bare centimeters from making contact.

She straightened up and shot her friend a look. "That wasn't mature."

Kyoshiro shrugged. "What goes around comes around."

"Besides," she sniffed, "it's _my_ job to throw things."

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot. You're the crazy one—"

"Watch yourself," Yuya warned darkly.

"—and I'm the hot one."

Yuya looked at him skeptically. "_I _won that contest we had, remember?"

"You did _not_ win! I told you that Kyo doesn't count for anything! Ever! I couldn't even sell him on eBay free of charge if I tried!" Kyoshiro shot back.

"I'm not so sure," Yuya murmured. There was at least _one_ woman who would be willing to pay for him, she figured out that much for sure.

Kyoshiro harrumphed before hesitantly asking—probably afraid of the answer, "Kyo… he isn't… _coming_ to this party tonight… right?" His tone was hopeful as he uncovered his face to tilt his head back and peer at Yuya.

She shrugged. "Who? Kyo? How am I supposed to know? I'm not his keeper. I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking."

"Good. I don't know that I wouldn't start something if I saw him." Kyoshiro nodded, placing his forearm across his eyes again.

Yuya was going to protest when she heard the forgotten phone vibrate from behind her. She turned and checked it, only to find that it was a text from Benitora.

_Im waiting outside. Should I come up to get you my princess?_

"My _princess_? Since when am I a princess?" she asked aloud, more to herself than anyone else. "Hell, since when am I _his_? I was not aware of this development. People should really tell me when things like this happen!" Frowning, she quickly scrawled a return text—

_I'm coming down_

—and tossed the phone back to Kyo.

Of course, it cracked off of his elbow again.

"Damn, girl," Kyoshiro whined from behind her. "Did elves come during my nap and paint a target there in ink only you can see? You got me twice in the same spot! Twice! Who does that?"

"Such a baby," she teased. "Benitora's downstairs. I'm heading out. I'll see you there?"

"Yep."

"Uh… shouldn't you go get your date?" Yuya quirked a brow.

Kyoshiro gave another long-suffering sigh. "I suppose I should," he confessed.

"You're so lazy!" she called back and ducked out of the apartment. She laughed when she heard something ricochet off the door—more than likely his poor, abused phone—and her giggles echoed in the hallway.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She was quite surprised to see Benitora holding a bouquet of baby pink roses when she got outside. When he saw her, he smiled and offered the flowers.

Taken aback at the gesture, she took them and shook her head quizzically. "I thought we were just going to the party… I mean, we _are _going to a party, right?"

"Of course," Benitora assured. "That doesn't mean I can't treat the girl of my dreams like gold, does it?"

"Well, no." Yuya looked down at the flowers. Despite how sweet his gesture was, it didn't make it feel any less corny. His cliché lines didn't make it feel any less so. "I just wasn't expecting this. Thanks." She glanced up and grinned at him.

"I'm glad I got pink. Getting pink ones was a complete whim on my part, but they go well with you. You look nice tonight, by the way," Benitora praised. His eyes glided up and down as he took her in and suddenly Yuya felt too exposed, even though she hadn't worn anything overly-revealing. She didn't have much of a selection in her old bedroom—she had barely been able to find something that matched with her Capri's. Luckily, she managed to find an old shirt that she hadn't worn in a while—a white one, with splashes of pink and black across her left side and black ribbon accents on her shoulders.

It had been a while since Yuya had received a genuine compliment of the sort, and she had forgotten how pleasant they made her felt. Why the hell didn't guys compliment her more often?

"I always look good," she playfully retaliated, artificial arrogance dancing across her features.

"I know," Benitora assured her. His hand went for one of the roses that she had, and he snapped the stem, leaving a shorter stub on the bud. Carefully, he tucked the shortened stem beneath the center of the messy bun into which she had tied most of her hair and arranged it so that it sat cocked a bit, flaunting the natural beauty in its wide-spread petals. "It's a little intimidating sometimes."

That made Yuya stand a little straighter, flip one of the loose strands of her long, sun-kissed hair behind her shoulder, and allow a small smile to curve her perfectly-glossed lips. "At least _someone_ can appreciate me."

Unlike _other_ people.

No.

She didn't care, remember? She didn't care that Kyo always growled at her, did his best to tear down her self esteem, absolutely refused to use her birth-given name, often ignored her—and yet he randomly tried to kiss her—and the _look_ in his eyes as he had descended upon her had been simply—

Yuya shivered.

How could he look at her that way and then just—

Did he look at every girl that way? Was she just another piece of grade-A, top quality meat thrown before a dog to appreciate and gobble up? Was she even considered "grade-A, top quality" to Kyo? Or was she the by-product to him—the leftovers used to make animal feed? Was she just "good enough" or…?

But no, she didn't care, remember? So what if Kyo didn't think about her that way—or so what if he did? She didn't care. Even if those glorious, crisp crimson eyes had looked at her in a way she had never seen before; in a way that no man had ever looked at her before; in a way that she had never seen any man look at _any _another person; in a way that still caused a liquid-fire spark to ripple through her veins and left her skin cool and plagued with goose bumps—

Yuya shivered.

But that didn't matter. She didn't care, remember?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He had no idea why he was there—really, he didn't. He didn't want to waste a night of his life with cheap booze and girls who had morals that were just as horrible. It was the loose girls that were the most obnoxious; they thought that they could shake what their momma gave 'em and his jaw would hit the floor, in the same way that every other male reacted to them.

If there was one thing Kyo was not, it was every other Dick and Jerry. He'd appreciate any show thrown his way, but the one thing that he did not do was blatantly gawk at any wench. There simply wasn't a woman who was sexy enough to do that to him. He hadn't seen a single chick in his life that had distracted him enough that he got that "look" about him—that "look" that every other Dick and Jerry gave a wench when they appreciated what they saw and wouldn't mind more than just a show. He was sure that there would never be a woman that would get that "look" out of him, either. He would never lower himself to that level.

The booze was worse than he expected, and the women were all the loose type that he correctly guessed they were going to be. It didn't take him long to grow bored of them, either. They could only swing their goods around so many times before it became less of a tease and more of a seedy display. The women didn't leave much up to the imagination, throwing themselves about in ass-short skirts and shirts that proudly showed off everything but the nipple, despite the fact that many of the girls had nothing to show.

Overall, Kyo was up and ready to leave in less than twenty minutes, all the while cursing himself for showing up and wasting time. The show had been nice at first before it just downright disgusted him, but it wasn't worth coming out to see. He could be in his apartment enjoying a night of quiet, solitude, and actually _decent_ booze, not this sweet, watery shit that they tried to sell to him (the bartender mixed a drink and actually tried to convince Kyo that it was one of the bar's finest mixes; after a scathing look from Kyo, the man quickly slithered away, muttering something about demon possession; however, in his haste, he left the drink on the counter within reach of Kyo's hand. He took the drink. No use wasting it, right?).

Wrong. It had been repulsively sweet, and very weak. Kyo at one point was actually debating going back over to the bartender and demanding to know just what the hell sort of shit he thought he could sell and pass as alcohol, but decided against it. Instead, he carelessly tipped the glass, allowing the liquid to drizzle out and splatter on the floor. He then let the empty glass fall to the ground, but the loud music drowned out any satisfying noises that it would have made when it hit the floor.

Pity.

And it wasn't long after that he decided it was time to make his exit. He slipped through the wall of dancers that were crammed together on the dance floor easily. No one wanted to touch him with a twenty-foot pole. Kyo would have felt insulted if he were a lesser man. He was quite amiable. His jibes and jokes were simply ways to amuse himself. Underneath the thorny and ominous shell was a cuddly teddy bear that wanted to talk about feelings and ooey-gooey shit.

Kyo almost tilted his head back and laughed at his own thoughts. The day he became a teddy bear was the day that Okuni fell into a ditch, broke a nail, and cried herself to death, never to bother him again. It simply wasn't going to happen.

He was almost through the thickest part of the crowd when he saw it. It was a quick flash, and he almost didn't catch it, but, of course, his sharp eyes caught everything. His blood-red eyes flicked into the heart of the throbbing, living mass of bodies and found that there, in the heart of everything, was a girl with hair as brilliant as the sun, eyes as dark as a freshly polished emerald, and the temper that matched that of an awakened, grumpy dragon.

And there, placed upon the top of her head, a glorious pink rose.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

(1) Guru Granth Sahib: the current and permanent "guru" of Sikhism. It's a holy text, containing works from the previous gurus.

**ArcticFire****,** firealchemist, **Chickedy-pea****,** cece009, **cheshire nii-nii****, **midnight blue08, **,** crazyaboutchocolate, **crazyaboutchoclate2****,** Reignashii, **insane-dumbass****, **isara-love, **MoonlitElegy****,** delft25, **kyoandyuya****, **OiseauLune -Moon Bird, **darkryubaby****,** ChuluSempai18, **mulayhna****,** FairoNeko

_All reviewers have my ever-lasting thanks for their dedication. You guys rock._

_Alright, well, I'm not happy with this chapter. I've really been trying to get the ball rolling on the more interesting part of this story, but for some reason, my story is fighting back. This chapter may seem sorta unnecessary, but it is. In the long run. Somehow. Maybe. (If I remember about it later.)_

_So tell me what you think—are you as unhappy with this chapter as I am? _

_Big thanks to ArticFire for editing! :)_

_Ciao!_


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